Liquid Gold

This morning ... I cried over spilled milk. 

I was multi-tasking - pumping while putting on make-up - in order to get out the door in a timely manner for my last day of work before becoming an official stay-at-home mom.  When I was finished, I went to unscrew the storage bottle from the shield, and somehow, as I started to put the bottle back down on the counter, it tipped over.  *tear*

I consider breastmilk to be liquid gold.  I would guess most moms do too.  Each and every drop is nearly priceless not only because of the nutrition it provides your growing baby, but also because mothers tend to obsess over making enough milk to satisfy their children.  "Wasting" even the tiniest amount is heart-breaking.

If I have to look at this from a "glass is half full" perspective, only about half an ounce spilled.  But, still, that's half an ounce that Savannah probably would've been interested in drinking come breakfast time. 

I've learned my lesson.  Pumping is a not a multi-task approved activity.  And anyone who has ever told you not to cry over spilled milk has obviously never been a breastfeeding mother.

Funny story

Ok, so the other day (well, maybe even longer ago than that) Cory and I were chuckling about a funny thing that happened while I was in labor with Savannah.  I remember thinking to myself, "Oh, I need to be sure and blog about that," but just haven't had the time.  Until now!  So on with the story. 

I think I mentioned in a previous post that I had to get a second epidural because the first one came out, right?  If not, now ya know.  I had been given pitocin so my contractions were coming fast and hard ... not a fun experience with the effects of the first epidural waning.  The anesthesiologist was prepping a patient for a c-section which meant this momma had to be patient until he could come redo the epidural.  In the meantime, the nurse injected some sort of narcodic pain killer into my IV with the warning that it would make me super drowsy.  Who cares, though, right?  I can just sleep through labor until it's time to push.  Well, it not only made me drowsy, it relaxed every muscle in my body so much that I had to consciously keep myself breathing and focus all of my effort on forming a coherent sentence!  Ok, so maybe I didn't REALLY have to make myself breathe ... but it sure felt that way.  In fact, I kept jerking myself out of sleep because I was afraid I was going to stop breathing and die right there on that gurney. 

Soon after it kicked in, Cory said he was going to go get a fresh cup of coffee since I was sleeping.  But I, in my drug-induced stupor, begged and pleaded with him not to go.  I was completely convinced that if he left my side to go get coffee I was going to stop breathing.  I needed him there to watch me and make sure I didn't.  I pretty clearly remember that part, but what I was unaware of was just how incoherent my speech really was.  According to Cory, it resembled that of a drunken frat boy after a long night of partying.  Everything was slurred, and the words in my sentences were sometimes out of order!  Ha!  Dumb drugs.  Cory reminded me that I was hooked up to a million monitors and that there would be alarms going off all over the hospital in the unlikely event that I did stop breathing. 

At that point I must have passed out because the next thing I knew, I halfway woke up, my mom was in the room with me because Cory was visiting with some family in the waiting room, and a nurse was saying, "I'VE GOTTA GO GET THE DOCTOR, IT'S TIME!" 

I have a new appreciation...

...for poop.  It's true.  Never in my life did I think I would be so concerned about the bodily functions of another person.  But that all changed after having a baby.  (NOTE: that baby is why I haven't been able to blog regularly ... thus this late-breaking story).  So, back to the poop scoop.  A couple of weeks ago, while going about the routine motherly tasks that now occupy my days (and nights), I noticed that Savannah had gone through a couple of diaper changes without being dirty.  Very unusual for her at that time.  After it caught my eye, I started getting worried and wondered why the change.  We waited in anticipation for each diaper change to see if the status had changed ... we employed some age-old techniques to try and encourage her along ... anything and everything to try to help.  By bedtime, Cory and I had one conversatioal subject ... POOP.  It had been long enough that Savannah was pretty cranky with the whole thing.  I didn't know if there was really something wrong or what.  I busted out my books to read about baby constipation which I determined probably wasn't the problem.  In case you're wondering, it noted that infrequency and straining were not a sign of constipation in an infant.  Our pediatrician gave us a vitamin D supplement that also had iron that I'd recently started giving her so I though maybe that was the cause.  In any event, we were up until around 4 a.m. when things finally got moving ... if you know what I mean.  I'd never been so relieved!!  And I'd venture to say that neither had Savannah!!

That concludes this scoop on poop, but I can't rightly post a blog without including a picture of our little squirt.  So without further ado ... the sleeping beauty:

One month

Savannah is one month (plus a few days) old.  She is finally starting to look like she's putting on some weight and has pretty good head control.  We've even caught a glimpse of a smile or two which melts my heart!  Thanks to the Happiest Baby on the Block DVD we got as a shower gift, our nights are much much better than they were in the beginning.  This has been the most wonderfully exhausting month of my life.  Here's to many more!

July 2, 2010