Protected: Becoming Roo’s Mama (part 3)

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Self-important reminder

I know I moved over here for more privacy and all, but would love it if you still have the old blog linked from your site you could update it to Round is Funny and this new site. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

I’m happy to have people here, just didn’t want my name attached to the blog anymore. Thanks, gang.

Katrina

Almost a year ago, I saw Richie Havens perform at a little outdoor theater.

He talked about what had just happened in Louisiana and Mississippi and how our attitudes and behaviors had magnified a natural disaster a thousand-fold.

He said: I think what we’re going to learn from this is that we all belong to each other.

We’re still learning.

Protected: Becoming Roo’s Mama (part 2)

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Protected: Becoming Roo’s Mama (part 1 of who knows how many)

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

The boob machine follow-up

First, I have to say: wow. Here I thought I was bumbling along trying to induce lactation and you all made me feel like a breastfeeding rockstar (heh). Thanks.

The size of my boobs is making me feel like a different kind of star, but that’s a story for another day.

A couple of things about your comments:

Both Jen and Sarah talked about using the SNS and it sounds like it just might get easier. I’m relieved. I’ve also ordered the Lact-Aid, which I hear is easier. I’ll keep you posted, but if anyone has any advice about that one I’d love to hear it.

Michelle, thanks for the reminder about skin-to-skin. I’ve been stripping us both down when I breastfeed, but hadn’t thought to do it when I’m pumping. Maybe if I hang him upside down by his ankles while I’m attaching the double pump…

Finally, Art-Sweet asked if NSG had also thought about trying to induce lactation. That’s a definite advantage of having four breasts in a relationship. We did talk about it a lot, and initially she was interested. That said, it’s only in the last few years that she’s started to really recover from a chronic illness, and when we talked to our homeopath about it, he felt like it would take too much energy out of her.

Given that I was still planning to do it, she was willing to let it go and has thrown herself into being as supportive of me doing this as she can - and it HELPS. I won’t pretend that she hasn’t felt jealous at all, which is also compounded by her going back to work and my being on leave. But we’re trying to talk about it and do what we can. She bathes him, burps him as soon as I’m done feeding him, shares night feedings with me, snuggles with him on the couch while I make dinner, wears him in a wrap when we go for walks, etc. That’s definitely helped alleviate some of the jealousy.

Even if Guatebaby isn’t interested in the boob, she would still benefit from breast milk, so if you’re both interested, I say try it!

I’ll keep posting about this, and please keep the comments and advice coming. It’s really very much appreciated.

Next up… I’m hoping to get all the things I felt too vulnerable to blog about in July onto paper (screen) and really tell the story of how we came to be Roo’s mamas and second family.

Boob machine

One of the 8,000 things I suddenly have less time for these days is the boob machine, formerly known as the breast pump.  Despite that, I’m still moving forward with inducing lactation.

I started trying to induce lactation at the beginning of July. After a few weeks with a hand pump and a whole lot of fenugreek, I started getting about 3 drops at a time - not bad for someone who has never been pregnant, but still - 3 drops after 6 pills a day and 30 minutes a day with a hand pump?

I broke down and got myself a double electric pump (paid for by Bl*e Cr*ss, thank you very much) and domperidone.

I took 40 mg a day of the dom to start. My only side effect was a weird feeling in the back of my throat - more just general grossness than nausea. My homeopath gave me something to take when I felt that grossness and it knocked it right out. I did see my milk supply increase, but we’re still talking a VERY small amount - I was pumping without bothering to attach the bottles.

Two days after we got Roo, we had a home visit from a lactation consultant. She suggested upping the Dom to 60 mg/day for a week or so, then going to 80, and recommended nursing Roo with the SNS and using the pump 8-12 a combined times a day. It’s definitely hard to get up to that number, since we’re bottle-feeding at night to preserve my sanity, but I’m trying to put him on without the SNS for at least a couple of minutes each time before we give him a bottle. (Though we have to really pay attention to how much time we let him go between feedings or else the wheels come off the cart).

Well. The SNS is a pain in the ass. I’ve got the hang of using it, and had some help with the actual mechanics of breastfeeding, but I do occasionally still attach the tubing at a weird angle and then wonder why Roo is either complaining because he’s not getting any milk or coughing because the tube got him in the back of the throat. Plus, the tubes need to be flushed between every use, which is tedious - and WHO KNEW that when they say “newborns eat every 2 hours” they meant “newborns take 45 minutes or so to eat and then need to eat again 2 hours from when they STARTED eating”? And I wonder why I’m not doing anything else…

All that said, though, I’m definitely producing more. I went up to 80 mg of Dom about 4 days ago and have this to say: I had no idea that it was possible for breasts to have growing pains, but OH MY GOD.

I’ve reattached the bottles to the pump and at this point am pumping about 1/2 an ounce each time. It’s not much, but it’s enough that I’ve started adding it to Roo’s feedings along with the formula. He’s eating about 2 1/2 - 3 ounces 8-10 times a day, so I think my goal by next weekend is to produce enough by pumping over the course of the day to bottle-feed him with only breast milk at least once a day. (That sounds ass-backwards, doesn’t it? But go with me here).

The other good news is that my midwife sister-in-law informs me that babies are way more efficient than breast pumps, so he’s probably getting a lot more from me than I’m pumping. Today I couldn’t get the stupid SNS to stop leaking, so I just put him on without it. It took him a good 45 minutes, but then he burped like an old man as milk dribbled down that cute little chin, and when I offered him a bottle he only took an ounce. Whoo!

Questions? Advice?

What’s in a name?

Several people have asked me about Roo’s name.

If you can forgive me, I’ll share where his name came from without actually sharing his name.

Yes, Roo is a nickname. My dad used to tuck me into bed at night and read Winnie the Pooh stories. He did all the voices except Roo - that was my job as soon as I was old enough to read. It seemed to fit that I would call my own kid Roo.

As for his real name:

Jewish tradition calls for naming the first child born after the death of a loved one with the first letter of the person’s name. We definitely pick and choose our rituals, but this one made a lot of sense to us. We chose a first name with an E, for my grandmother, and a middle name with an I, for Non-Sequitor Girl’s grandmother. We also wanted to incorporate a name from his birth family - a first name if they chose one, or their last name if they didn’t.

As it turned out, the birth family asked us to name him. We asked if they had a name picked out as well, and they did - they had been referring to him by another name beginning with an I. We dropped the I name we had chosen and instead used their name as his first name, feeling like it honored both them and NSG’s grandmother.

After all was said and done, my father mentioned to me that the I name also happens to be his - my father’s - Hebrew name (with a slightly different spelling). So it feels like a family name three times over.

Finally, Roo’s Hebrew name comes from NSG’s friend who died in the fall of 2003.

The process was harder than I had thought it would be. It was very hard to find a balance: on the one hand, of genuinely honoring the birth family, on the other hand, of providing a name that’s deeply connected to both of our families for our adopted child. I think we’ve struck the balance we wanted.

Things my kid has taught me (week 2)

1. Body mass is indirectly proportionate to the amount of laundry a person can create.

2. An enormous wardrobe may not seem necessary for a person who can’t even find his own hands on a good day, but it comes in handy for someone who stands an excellent chance of peeing in or vomiting on every outfit he wears. See #1.

3. A body weight of 8 pounds and change does not inhibit a body’s ability to fart like an old man. See #1.

4. My 30-year-old self has maintained my 22-year-old self’s college-era ability to be up half the night without being too miserable the next day. Unfortunately, instead of begging for beer, I am begging my son to please go to sleep.

5. I am not nearly as high-maintenance as I thought. The fact that I can’t leave the house alone without 17 armloads of stuff to get me through the day suddenly pales in comparison to the amount of stuff required by someone who doesn’t even know what the word “stuff” means. See #1.