I now understand why they eat garbage. And people. I would too, if this diet continues. I am literally starving (and nuts and berries only go so far, and no, I am not willing to have ground beef for breakfast).
This diet sucks. And I think it's affecting milk production. I've seen a serious drop in amount collected, and I think it's because I literally have nothing left. My body is using everything, leaving one very tired, cranky Kim.
And no, I don't think we are any closer to figuring this breast milk v. formula thing out. Is it GERD? Is it colic? Is it general fussiness? I haven't a clue. I talked to my sister today and she said that baby Ben was diagnosed with reflux. Not severe enough to warrant medication, but enough that they should do more frequent feedings with smaller amounts, and keep the baby upright for 20 minutes after feeding. His fussiness had nothing to do with Kelly's diet.
Um...that's what we've been doing. Frequent feedings, 20 minutes, blah, blah...and we've seen a positive change, so is it me, or is it GERD? Or both? Really the only reason I'm asking is that I'm mad for a Starbucks right about now and would kill to have a slice of cheese. I had no idea my diet was so heavily focused on caffeine and milk-based products.
I honestly don't know what to do. If this continues, I won't have any milk and then my options will only be one: formula. Or, I can keep pumping, keep trying, and know that will every new feeding, Brian and I close our eyes and pray this isn't the one that turns Scotty into 'Crazy Baby.'
We had our pediatric neurologist appointment this morning (more about that later) and as I was driving home, the food options that were going through my head almost caused me to start drooling. My breakfast was a horrible mess of toast with jelly (no butter) and apple juice. All simple carbs that I'm sure I digested in about 3 minutes. So after 4 hours, I was ready to chew my arm off and possibly start pawing through garbage. I ended up going through the McDonald's drive-thru (only b/c the thought of lifting the car seat out, along with the diaper bag was too much for me to bear - haha, no pun intended) and getting 10 chicken nuggest (4 extra since I'm lactating). I ate them in the car, fearful that Pork Chop would wake up, and then came home and ate two granola bars and a turkey sandwich. I *think* I might finally be full.
This cannot go on. But I don't know what to do - add more foods and run the risk of Crazy Baby? Just stop all together? The thought of no coffee until 2010 (which I am hoping to do, breast-feeding wise) seriously depresses me. But I also don't want Scotty to think that I traded his health for a Pumpkin Spice Latte. He does know that PSLs are seasonal, right? I mean, if I don't strike now, I won't get another one for almost 12 months...that's a lot to ask out of anyone.
Anyways, the appointment went really well. The neurologist said that Scotty is "perfect" and developing fine with no side effects from the high bili levels. We have a follow-up in three months, and she said that if everything looks fine, we can stroll into the sunset with no more worries. All great, great news.
And FYI: getting to this appointment on time was seriously like planning a major event. The official planning started last night as Brian and I cleaned the house (the maids were coming today). I prayed Scotty would sleep well so I wouldn't be completely out of it as I drove this morning. I was up by 8am and in the shower; Brian fed the baby as I packed the diaper bag. I left the house at 9:45am for our 11am appointment. I arrived in the very busy, very germy waiting room at 10:25 only to find that my appointment was really at 11:30, and I was supposed to start paperwork at 11am. Um, okay. So I filled out the paperwork in 12 minutes and sat there and prayed my child wouldn't wake up for another 53 minutes. By the time I left at noon, I was so exhausted that I got my nuggets, ate, and then came home, only to find the maids still here. I'm sure I looked fairly crazy as I lugged the baby in, said hi, and promptly went upstairs to pump and then collapse on the bed. Parenthood is hard, but it's so much harder when you are carting around a 30-lb carseat and 45-lb diaper bag. (I exaggerate...just a little).
There were some kids playing tag in the waiting room (it was a ped neurologist...I'm guessing they see a lot of ADHD kids). I was fairly proud of myself for not losing it and yelling at them, especially with my sleep deprivation. Instead, I was able to organize their game to include 'safe zones' (i.e. don't cross this line and step on my child) and 'free zones' (i.e. have at it - run around to your heart's content.) It seemed to work well.
And now I know why most new parents feel like rock stars when they are in public - with all of the little 5-6 year olds running around, my 6 week old baby was the highlight. Everyone wanted to see the baby (see, not touch), including a little girl who was in charge of the tag game. Everyone ooh'd and ahh'd and made me feel all-over awesome. My little Pork Chop was quite the superstar. :-)
Brian just brought home Bobbies (turkey, cranberry, bread, and mayo - all safe, no?) and I'm feeling less grizzly-like. Whatever we are doing seems to be working - we've had two excellent nights (up at 1:30, 3:30, 6, and 8) and the little guy is up, feeds, and down within 45 minutes. Naps are getting more "scheduled" - he takes a long one from 1-4, and then from 6-8, so keep your fingers crossed. I'm sure now that I've put that in print, he will change everything. Oh, well.