Crying over spilled milk

I just threw out 52 bags of frozen breastmilk because it went bad in the freezer. That's 260 ounces = 16 cups = 4 quarts = 1 GALLON of milk. That represents approximately 18 hours of pumping. 18 hours of time spent so that I would have a good stash for Zachary. Down the drain. Literally.

Now I'm working with the Dude to figure out the best way to nourish my little guy since the frozen milk I'd counted on is gone. I got my trusty Pump-In-Style out, but it appears that my magical milk-making power has disappeared. I just want to cry.

The end of an era

Warning: This post is all about breastfeeding. If reading about breastfeeding makes you uncomfortable, well, don't read this. And if you got to this page because you Googled "breast", you need to get out more.

It seems that I am no longer a nursing mother. Which I suppose means that I'm not allowed to eat pints of ice cream for dinner anymore. Or rather, I'm allowed to...but not without weighty consequences.

I've been slowly cutting back on nursing, following Zachary's cues as he's become less interested. We were down to 3-4 times a day when both Zachary and I got sick. He caught a cold (which made nursing difficult for him because he couldn't breathe through his nose) and I got mastitis (which made life difficult for me because OUCH! It hurts! And I have a fever! And I'm sore all over! And I feel like crap!).

Since this is my 10th case of mastitis, my doctor wanted me to come in so she could give me a trophy for breaking the office record for mastitis masochism (apparently, no one else is crazy enough to continue BFing after getting more than one or two cases of mastitis). Either that, or she wanted to see if it's possible that I really have mastitis again. Turns out that yes, I do, and my doc said that I probably got this particular case due to the weaning. Although Zachary and I were on the same page with the whole thing, my body hadn't gotten the memo. My doc prescribed me some meds and warned me that I would probably get at least one more case as we wean completely. Oh good, something to look forward to!

Newly armed with my meds, I continued to try to nurse Zachary. He, however, wanted nothing to do with it. His way of letting me know was very clear and succinct: he bit me. Not a "I'll nurse for a little while and then experiment with my teeth" thing...he was very deliberate. "Boob? Bite!" I've continued to try nursing him at our normal times (4x/day) for four days, and each time he takes a look and then takes a bite. So I think this is the end.

I've been worried about how I would wean him. I didn't want to withhold nursing from him when he wanted it. I wasn't sure how we would manage the mornings without bringing him into bed to nurse while stealing a few more minutes of sleep. I didn't know if it would be hard to put him to sleep without our nightly bath-boob-book-bed routine.

This way, it's much easier. He decided on his own that he's done, so we don't have to soothe him or try to come up with a replacement. He's happy as can be, and I'm dealing with the engorgement and associated potential for clogged ducts and mastitis while I'm already on meds for my existing case of mastitis. I was planning to wean him at around 12 months anyway, and I have enough frozen milk to keep him supplied at least that long. It really couldn't be a better situation.

Even so, this is a strange time for me. Zachary and I had a really hard time getting started with BFing, but we stuck it out and were able to make it over the hurdles. I went through times when I felt resentful of having to nurse him so frequently, of not having the freedom to leave him for more than an hour at a time, of not feeling like my body belonged to me anymore. I couldn't eat dairy for months because he was sensitive to it, and I still haven't touched peanut butter since he had a mild reaction. And of course, I've had 10 cases of mastitis.

But overall, I've enjoyed this special time with him so much. I'm in awe of the fact that this body of mine has nurtured him so well. I cherish the intimacy that we've shared 4-12 times per day every day for almost 11 months. I'm honored that he found such comfort in nursing, that it was a sure-fire way to calm him down when he was upset. And I smile when I think about his desperate attempts to latch on to any part of me (including my nose, my chin, my stomach, my elbow...).

I will miss this.

WND

Tonight I hosted Wednesday Night Dinners! We had pasta, veggies and salad, plus a couple bottles of wine. Yum. Amanda was supposed to bring stuff for garlic bread, but instead, she bought a house. We figured that's the best excuse ever, so we let her get away with it (congrats to Amanda and Ryan, new homeowners!). It was a nice evening of catching up and enjoying conversation while watching Amanda freak out as she waited to hear if they got the house. Zachary slept through the whole thing (which was good, because even as cute as he is, boys aren't allowed at WND) and Cowboy basked in all the female attention (we let Cowboy stick around, because he's not "all" boy anymore). Thanks for such a lovely time, gals!

Random observations: The letter "M" is a popular one with this group. Margaret, Melissa, aManda, Meg, Mary...and wenMei? And why do I feel very, um, brunette when I look at these pictures?

Roll over

I reached a milestone with my camera this week. When I take pictures, I keep the image numbers running continuously rather than resetting to zero every time I clear off the memory card. That way, all of my pictures are named in sequential order and it's easy for me to organize them. Well, earlier this week, I hit the maximum number and had to start again from zero. That means that, in less than one year, I've taken over 10,000 pictures with this camera. (Note: I have two other cameras that I use as well.) I'm not sure if that's impressive or disturbing. Or if it's not even that big of a deal. I mean c'mon, 10k+ pictures isn't that much, is it? That's only 830 pictures a month. Or 190 pictures a week. Or about 30 pictures a day. See, that's TOTALLY reasonable.

Missing pets

When I take Zachary and Cowboy for walks, I often see signs for missing pets stapled to the telephone poles around the neighborhood. The vast majority of them read about the same: "Beloved dog missing since Sunday night", "Help me find my tabby cat", etc. Lately, however, there have been a couple unusual signs. Yesterday I saw several signs for a missing parakeet (he answers to "Sweetie"). Today I saw a sign for a missing Turtle named "Escapé". Which I suppose is appropriate. But how exactly does a turtle go missing? Did he run away?

Yarr

In honor of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, here's my favorite pirate joke. In fact, it's one of my favorite jokes, period (along with the lumberjack joke...which you'll have to ask me about in person because it doesn't translate well via blog).

"A pirate walks into a bar, and the barkeep says "Excuse me, cap'n, but did you know that you've got your ship's wheel stuck in your pants?" "Aye," says the pirate, "it's drivin' me nuts!"

I hope ye all be hoisting a mug o' grog in honor of t'day!

Updated: If you happened to read this post before I added this update, then wait a few weeks before you ask me about the lumberjack joke. Because, in typical Wenmei fashion, I introduced the joke by telling you the punch line. I'm SO not cut out to be a comedian.

Happy anniversary to us!

(Click on the little sound icon between "slide" and "more" to turn off the music)

Another demographic division

Now that Zachary is over 10 months old and eating more solid foods per day than I do, I know that our nursing relationship will end soon. Even though we had a difficult start and I went through stages of feeling overwhelmed or trapped or resentful when he was nursing every hour (not to mention the 9 episodes of full-blown antibiotic-requiring mastitis and countless clogged ducts), I'm sad to know that soon I won't be nursing him anymore.

Because I don't know too many mothers who continue to EBF (exclusively breastfeed) up to or beyond 6 months, I was curious about what the national trends are. I looked at the Healthy People 2010 goals and the CDC's Breastfeeding Report Card (based on national data from 2005). The national objective is to increase the number of mothers and the length of time they BF. The targets for 2010 are as follows: 75% in early postpartum, 50% at 6 months and 25% at 12 months. In 2005, we'd already reached 74.2% in early postpartum, 43.1% at 6 months, and 21.4% at 12 months. It seems that, as a country, we are right on track to meet the goals! But there's a fair amount of discrepancy between the states (over 90% of mothers in Washington BF at least a little while, whereas less than 50% of mothers in Louisiana do).

Looking at the data, the states who already meet the national goals are Alaska, California, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, Vermont, and Washington. Way to go westerners! And Vermont. I've always liked Vermont. And I guess that explains why BFing is so accepted (and often pushed) around here -- we are in the midst of the "lactation belt" of the United States!

I wonder how long it will be before politicians start pandering to us, promising free Hooter Hiders for votes. I already have my Hooter Hider, but I'll take some Baby Legs if you're offering.

My new favorite wedding picture

And it's not even mine!

As much as I enjoy having a 15 lb paper weight...

...I'm happy to be removed from the telephone directory delivery list. If you'd like to stop receiving unsolicited copies of the yellow/white pages every year, go to Yellow Pages Goes Green to sign up!

I wonder how long they debated over whether they should use "goes" or "go"?

Now if I could just get the Seattle Times to stop delivering unsolicited papers to our door. And yes, I've called and written. They stopped for a few weeks, but they started up again yesterday. If anyone wants a copy of the paper, it's sitting on our front porch.