Parental Intuition

This post is pretty raw but I've never been a blogger to mask real life with social media sunshine so here  we go.....

Evan was born 9 weeks and one day ago today.  When he was born I didn't think twice about breastfeeding, it  was something I had decided to commit to long before Evan was even born.

Two bouts of  mastitis, twenty days of antibiotics, countless capsules of fenugreek, gallons of mother's milk tea, and tablespoons of mother's milk drops later we have a child who was technically classified as failing to thrive because he has dropped to the 2nd percentile in weight.

Insert my broken heart here.

Evan has never been a big baby. Being born at 6lbs 4oz and leaving the hospital at 5lbs and 14oz, he started out small and was on a strict feed every two hours schedule.  We stuck to the schedule and yet Evan always seemed hungry to Aaron and I.  We expressed these concerns with doctors and they said his behaviors were the result of acid reflux and assured us there was no way he could possibly be hungry because he was steadily gaining weight.  So, we trudged on with a fussy baby who we swore was hungry and fought our intuition because the medical professionals told us Evan was fine.  

He was fine until they began to chart his weight that is.  Turns out that although he's been gaining weight, he's been steadily falling lower and lower on the growth chart since he was three weeks old and if the trend continues he will actually fall off the curve by his next appointment.  

Enter supplementing stage left. Three extra ounces in the morning, three extra ounces in the evening to start.

So as I type I find myself staring at a bottle of Reglan and a canister of Similac Organic formula trying to decide what we are going to do when our very small stash of freezer breast milk is gone. 

Reglan is a prescription usually used for GI tract issues but has lactation listed as a "unlikely" side effect and is a strong medication that you have to be weened off of once you've begun taking it.  If it works my body should be able to produce what Evan needs and we can continue to avoid using formula.  If it doesn't work I've simply exposed myself to more chemicals and the risk of other side effects of the medication that mimic Parkinson's disease.  So what do you do?  There is a huge part of me that feels like if I was meant to exclusively breastfeed God wouldn't put me in a position to have to resort to prescription drugs as a last ditch effort but then the mom in me want's to say I literally tried it all.

I'm not sure if I should feel grateful or bitter towards the social guilt associated with the use of formula.  On the one hand it's part of what has encouraged me to try nearly everything in my power to succeed at breastfeeding but on the other hand the pressure to exclusively breastfeed from both society and the medical community has also contributed to Evan's poor weight gain and my feelings of desperation and failure.  Believe me, I fully understand the benefits of breastfeeding and am fully supportive of the concept......when it works.  And for some, maybe it just doesn't work and maybe that just needs to be accepted as okay.

In a world of mom-shamers I am so thankful to be surrounded by fellow moms who have been nothing but supportive and encouraging.  At this point I'm still undecided in regards to what path we'll take next  but I'm just a few feedings shy of being forced to choose.   

In the meantime I'll just bask in our string bean son's cute smiles and new sunny disposition courtesy of a full belly and trust that when the time actually comes we will know what to do. 

Until next time friends......

Our little sugar cookie angel

Post two month appointment snuggles

Finally not screaming in his car seat!

Evan's Birth Story...an Abbreviated Version

I've thought about sitting down and writing Evan's birth story almost a million times but every time prior to this I would sit down to actually write and just end up crying. Thank you, post partum hormones.  They certainly weren't sad tears though, they were some of the happiest tears I've ever shed. Part of me also felt reluctant to write because we had a c-section.  Our story doesn't include hours of natural labor or the joy of immediate skin to skin contact with me, but in the end it's still just as special to us, and so I wrote.......

Wednesday September 17th, 2014 started out like any other day minus the fact that it was supposed to be the day before Evan's birthday, not his actual birthday.  We had grand plans of going to breakfast, seeing a movie and enjoying the last day of just "us", of course those plans changed. Aaron and I woke up around 6:15 and wandered out onto our front patio to check on the landscaping we had just planted the day before. Since I knew we wouldn't be going to breakfast right away I headed back into the house to eat some watermelon to hold me over.  As I was opening the refrigerator I felt a strange pain and then realized I either peed myself, so glamorous, or my water had broke.  Aaron was in the living room when I said something to the effect of, "Um, Aaron you need to come in here."  In he walks and upon seeing the liquid on the floor looks up to the ceiling, where our plumbing is, thinking our pipes were leaking! (One of my favorite parts of our story)

Once what was happening sank in for us both we called the hospital, grabbed our bags and headed out the door.  Naturally this put us on the road during rush hour so a drive that would have taken forty minutes ended up taking an hour and twenty minutes.  We pulled into the parking garage at 8:19 and as we approached the hospital entrance I remember thinking, wow, this is really it.

We checked in at the front desk and then were immediately sent up to triage and hooked up to monitors.  There was some concern regarding a dip in Evan's heart rate with each contraction and once it was determined that I was in fact in labor, and that Evan was infact still breech, things began to move very quickly. I signed a bunch of waivers for the surgery, met my surgeon, and up another floor we went to pre-op.  In pre-op there were more forms to fill out, most of which Aaron did for me while I worked through contractions and got my IV.  I'm not entirely sure how long we were in the pre-op room, I'd like to say maybe 15 minutes or so, when in barged the anesthesiologist who quickly began shouting about how the surgeons were ready, how they needed me in there now and why were things taking so long.  I had to drink some really nasty liquid, Aaron was given scrubs to put on, and off we went to the OR.  

Once we entered the hall where the operating rooms were it seemed very cold and the reality of what was about to happen, and how our son would be entering the world in a way that seemed somehow less "special" at the time, really hit me.  Aaron and I were separated as I was wheeled into the OR and he was sent to wait in a hall across the way until surgery began.  Upon entering the OR I was greeted by no less than ten faces, all of whom stopped and looked at me as the anesthesiologist announced who I was and why I was there.

"We have Katie Beucus here. 26 year old female with a primary Caesarian as a result of breech presentation, do we agree?" And in unison all faces staring at me said, "Yes, we agree" before returning to their tasks.  

Before I knew it I was up on the table with a needle in my spine.  I was so scared and all I kept thinking about was how I wish Aaron was there to hold my hand.  Once I was numb I was laid down and Aaron was brought in to sit at my head.  With tears building in my eyes I remember asking him to just talk to me about anything because I was scared and needed to be distracted, so talk to me he did, about what I can't remember.

The surgeon announced she was starting, and after a surprising amount of tugging, pushing and grunting, at 11:50 AM, all 6 pounds 4 ounces and 19.5 inches of Evan Ray Beucus was born and welcomed with a chorus of Happy Birthday from the medical staff.

I remember looking over at where Evan was and asking why he wasn't crying but as soon as the words left my mouth a scream left his.  Aaron stepped away from my side for just a moment and retured with our son in arms.  I'll never forget about Aaron telling me how he has hair and it's dark like it was in my dreams or about watching Aaron gaze at our son with such amazement.  I'll never forget about seeing Evan's face for the first time or about Aaron bringing him in close so I could touch his cheeks and kiss his forehead.  The remaining four days in the hospital were a complete blur and if I'm being entirely honest, these first weeks home have been too but in a good way.

Here's where this post gets all sentimental and mushy, something you know I rarely do, but Evan's story wouldn't be complete without it.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, a saying I can now fully appreciate. 

I have been blessed with the most patient, caring and selfless individual for a husband.  Recovering from a c-section with a newborn is not easy.  Add to that an infection that caused me to have a 102* fever, not once but twice in our first four weeks home, and I'd be the first to admit our new life was down right hard.  But Aaron was there, changing every diaper, rocking Evan to sleep in the middle of the night after every feeding, taking me to doctor appointments, cooking us meals, making sure I took my medications and supporting and encouraging me every single day.

Then there's our incredible friends and family.  Those who brought us meals, did our grocery shopping, offered words of encouragement, mowed our lawn, swept our patio, insisted on watching Evan so we could celebrate our wedding anniversary out of the house and simply held Evan so I could do things like laundry.  I am, and will forever be so grateful for our village.

Until next time friends.....