Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts

the day before tomorrow

Today is my last day of maternity leave, and if you're thinking to yourself, "well, that went quick," I totally agree.  Not as quick as my five week leave with Cal, or my six week leave with Mack, but it still didn't seem much longer than those other times, somehow.  One's perception always expands to fill the timeframe allotted I guess, which is probably why, no matter how long I had or when I started, my papers in college were always finished at midnight the night before.  (See also: why I did not major in the humanities.)




I am something of a planner (this is what Joe calls me, though I think this is charitable--I have what might more accurately be described as a crippling attention to detail with a vivid imagination for catastrophe and outlay for at least three contingencies) so I've been gearing up for going back to work for, oh, at least the last month.  I knew I had to go back to work August 31st, so naturally I started stressing about it August 1st.  SHUT UP, I'M NORMAL.  So here's what we have going on.

Naturally, the milk.  I started pumping when Nina was probably about three weeks old (with the boys I started pumping sooner, both because I had less time was not as worried about weight gain with them than with Nina--she was on the smaller side when she was born and I didn't want to, you know, screw with the system until breastfeeding was firmly established) and I think we have amassed a goodly stockpile for my re-entry.
As I think I've mentioned before, the pump I'm using is the Medela Symphony.  I used the Symphony with Cal, lugging it into work with me for six months on the subway (it's not, like, 50 pounds or anything, but it's a hefty hospital grade pump so I crammed it into a giant L.L. Bean backpack and looked every bit like the former Hunter student that I once was: monstrous square backback on the subway at dark o'clock every morning--at least I wasn't reading "The Grapes of Wrath" or "The Chosen").  When the rental company I was using with the Symphony folded, I bought a Pump in Style, which I used for another six months with Cal, and then for almost a year with Mack, and it worked fine.  But now, returning to the Symphony, I have to say--it's a much better pump.  It's just solid, and it works more efficiently too, which is great when you need to pump but have only a short amount of time to get the job done.  Obviously it costs more too, but you can rent it, or buy it an resell it like I plan to.  (Since it's a hospital-grade pump, it operates on a closed system and is therefore approved for multiple users--the new owner would just need to get a new collection system and fresh tubing.)  I would also like to point out, for anyone else in the same boat, that the purchase of a breast pump can be deductible on your medical flex account if you have one for work.  (I printed out that article and stapled it to the receipt when I submitted it to my business office, and had no problems.)

I know a lot of people use those plastic baggies to store their milk, but I never have--experimentation in the medium led to a lot of spillage and of course the solid waste over the course of a year is not inconsiderable.  So for the third time in a row now I'm using this Mother's Milkmate system, which is basically a series of wire racks and little bottles (the bottles store up to five ounces I think but I never fill with more than four, because it can get messy, and of course if you end up freezing the bottle there's no room for expansion).  I obviously think this system is the way to go since I've gone back to it twice, because it easily shows you how much milk you have and dispenses the stash from oldest to newest in a way that satisfies my neuroticism attention to detail.  (If my use of masking tape labels color coded by day doesn't tell you everything you need to know about my personality, I'm not really sure what will.)




Some pro tips: get a few packs of extra storage bottles to have around, because between having some in the freezer and having dirty ones in the dishwasher, a good percentage of the bottles are going to be out of circulation each day and you want to have enough clean ones lying around to pump and store.  The rack itself comes with ten bottles those bottles screw directly into the boob horns of the pump setup, which means less pouring and transferring of your hard-won bounty. As an added plus, you can also screw on any standard-sized nipple (the Medela ones or the freebies they give you at the hospital fit fine) and feed directly from the storage bottle itself, which is very convenient as long as your baby isn't particular about bottle feeding.  (We didn't get one of these non-particular babies, however.  She's a woman of discriminating tastes, about which more later.)

I work at the same place now as I did when Mack was born, so luckily I have my pumping logistics and geography pretty much down.  Since the year I pumped with Mack, the hospital has actually added a lactation room pretty close to the OR, but from what I've heard they've missed the mark a bit because while it is a room with a door and a chair, it apparently doesn't have a sink.  People, you need a sink, both to wash your hands before and to rinse your pump parts after.  Sure, you could carry your stuff down the hall and rinse them in the lounge, but believe me, people get awfully squeamish when they have to see your lady gear.  So I'll do what I did last time, which is pump in the bathroom of the female doctor's locker room.  It sounds kind of grim, but it's actually leagues better than where I pumped as a resident--it's reasonably clean first of all, and there's an overhead light, which seems redundant to mention in this modern age, but believe me, it's not a given.  Also, 100% fewer dirty mops are stored in this particular bathroom.  So basically it's like Shangri-La.

So you need a place to pump at work.  Here's what you really need: a pump, a platform to put it on (desk, table, bench, what have you--I put my pump on a hamper), a sink, a door (for the sake of workplace discretion), an electrical outlet, a fridge, and an insulated bag with some ice packs to get it all home.  The electrical outlet is technically optional I guess, but using a battery pack to power a pump over the long term is going to cost you bank because those things eat batteries like Cookie Monster eats cookies, so just do yourself a favor and just park near an outlet.

Let me say here that although I've nursed all three of my kids, I have a problem with people being a little too adamant about breastfeeding as the be all end all. Feeding your kid formula is just fine as I and millions of other formula-fed humans will attest, and what you feed them is probably somewhat lower on the list of things that are essential to their health and well-being than, you know, loving them and being attuned to their needs and safety, all that jazz.  So I have a problem with people making moms feel like they're failures if they can't/choose not to breastfeed.  Look, breastfeeding is great if it works for you, but it's not as important as many, many other things you can do for your baby, like, for example, getting them vaccinated against dangerous childhood diseases.  BUT I DIGRESS.

Anyway, what got me to that last point is that I was going to say that the more militant of the breastfeeding literature says that if you're going to dare to go back to work and tear yourself away from your tiny human, that you should ideally be pumping every two or three hours during the day.  (Pause for laughter.)  I don't know anyone who has a job that allows them to pump every two or three hours, do you?  I mean, maybe if you work from home, but even then, I bet it would be rough, because of the actual "work" part.  So just get that out of your head.  It is impossible.  I pump maybe two or three times a day total.  Once in the morning before I leave for work.  Once midday, around lunchtime.  And once later in the evening, if I'm working late.  I also usually take some sort of galactagogue--with the boys I took domperidone, and with Nina I've been taking this Lactation Support stuff (basically fenugreek with other herbal jazz) and supply has been pretty good.  Once I get home, I just nurse on demand, which basically means I have a baby attached to me all evening and all night.  Good stuff.

Ironically, it was much easier to find time to pump as a resident than it is now that I'm an attending.  This seems counterintuitive, but the reason is that as an anesthesia resident we were mandated to get a thirty minute lunch/bathroom break midday, during which time I knew someone was covering my patient and I had no explicit clinical responsibilities.  As a grown-up (that is to say, now that I'm an attending), I don't get lunch breaks anymore.  I mean, I eat lunch (usually), but I just grab it between other things to do, because I can be (and am) called to do something constantly throughout the day.  A thirty minute break is the stuff of pure fantasy.  So when I pump at work, it's kind of like playing Frogger.  I eye the rooms I'm supervising, calculate how long it will be until they need me or until my next patient shows up in pre-op or how long it's going to be before the surgeon removes The Big Clamp or starts dissecting around The Pulsating Thing--and then I just run for it.  Really, I just need ten or fifteen minutes, because I have everything in place and for the most part assembled.  So I run in to pump, give the parts a cursory rinse and dry (I do the real wash at home, in the dishwasher--the heat effectively sterilizes everything) and run my stash to the refrigerator, all hopefully before I get called to do the next thing.

Of course, pumping the milk is just the first part of going back to work if you breastfeed; you also have a way to, you know, get the milk inside your baby.  With Cal and Mack, I introduced the bottle in earnest at about two weeks, and they had very little trouble transitioning between the two (something that made me seriously doubt the phenomenon of "nipple confusion" that people talk about) but Nina has been a little more of a tough nut.  She really, really, really strongly prefers to nurse over bottle feeding.  I started having my high-level surrogates (sorry, I just rewatched the entire run of "The West Wing" in its entirety over my leave and my mind is still half in the Santos-McGarry campaign) giving her a bottle or two a day starting around three or four weeks, but she just kind of hated it for a while.  We tried a bunch of different nipples and bottles, but so far what works best for her is the same thing we used for her brothers, which is this Playtex nurser system set.


It's marketed as better for breastfeeding babies, and I don't know if that's just a bunch of hooey but it does have the widest nipple base of any that we tried (how many times have I said the word "nipple" in this entry?  NIPPLEZZZ!) and I think that she's the most comfortable with it because it's the most boob-like non-boob that we have in our arsenal.  I also like it because it uses these drop-in liners, which not only means that we don't have to actually wash a bottle (the plastic "bottle" is really just a tube-shaped frame to hold the plastic liner and for you to grab onto) but it allows you to really squeeze out all the air from the milk reservoir before feeding, not unlike priming a syringe.  (Yeah, I just said that.  WHAT?)  For a happy refluxer like Nina, this ability to minimize the air swallowed is a nice benefit.




Nina's smart though, in that she will rarely agree to take the bottle from me, probably because she knows that when I'm there she has better options.  Sometimes she won't take the bottle (or will at least fuss more) if she knows I'm even nearby--this leads to the hardest part of transitioning out of maternity leave, which is: leaving before you really have to leave.

I knew I was going to be on call my first day back at the hospital, and would be away from her for maybe fourteen hours or more.  Obviously that's a long time, and I didn't want my first day back (stressful for many other reasons) to be all the more shocking to the baby because OMG WHERE DID THE BOOB LADY GO?  I wanted Nina to know well before it was time for me to go back to work for real that even if I wasn't there, there were other people there to hold her and feed her and love her.  Maybe it was more for myself than anything else, but I needed to see for myself that she was going to be OK before I actually left.  So starting a few weeks ago, I started "leaving" during the day, for increasingly long periods, a few hours at a time.

We are very lucky to have a nanny that has been with us since before Mack was born, and she knows and loves our kids, which has made it a lot easier.  But still, I will tell you that the hardest part of these "trial separations" is being in the house, hearing her cry, and letting someone else get her.  I've literally had to sit on my hands a couple of times.  Which is probably why I end up leaving the house during most of these "training" periods, and why Target has all of my money.  But Nina now takes the bottle during the day, she and our nanny now know each other pretty well, and we have our little schedule and routine pretty set, including coordinating school pickups and drop offs for the boys with the baby in tow.  I'll be sad leaving tomorrow morning but I won't really be too worried, because hey, we practiced.  We got this.

It's both wonderful and terrible to be needed so much by someone, but then also see that they're OK with someone else too.  I remember when I went back to work after Cal was born, thinking, "How can this little person possibly survive without me?"  But he did.  They all do.  But I guess this period is the act of parenting a child in a nutshell.  They'll do fine, but you try your hardest to prepare them for success and happiness the best that you can.  And look, I know, DRAMA QUEEN, you're just going back to work, not joining the Foreign Legion.  But these little transitions can be hard on everyone, though hopefully with all the prep it will be harder for me than for her.


Hey guys.  See you at work tomorrow.
dairy section


When 100% of the food on which your child subsists involves such rigorous methods of collecting and measuring and storage and labelling, it's hard not to get a little obsessive compulsive about it.
big mack attack

Good god, hide the cookies, he's in the 6-12 month clothing already:



If Cal is any indication, his size will eventually normalize, but man, is Mack ever a big baby.

Also, does this outfit look girlie to you? I would say no, because what, it's GREEN, but for some reason I could only find it in the girl's section on the Old Navy website. Perhaps there is a hidden Barbie intarsia somewhere in there that I can't see, but whatever, who cares. I love me some stripes.


* * *


Another weekend, another kid's birthday party. Some people complain about this, because their weekend social calendars are just littered with all these little parties, making it difficult to do anything else, but we like them. BECAUSE WE HAVE NO LIFE. Anyway, It's a free activity at a kid-friendly venue, and it's nice to get Cal out of the house and with his friends on the weekend, all sugared up and blah blah blah. I do think I have to start employing my mom's strategy of The Gift Closet, though, where basically I buy a whole stash of little kid's birthday gifts on sale and keep them around for all these events. Most of the parents in Cal's class actually are of the "please no need to bring gifts" or "instead of gifts, bring canned goods for the food bank" variety, but still, there are occasionally some birthday gifts exchanged, and since I always forget this involves a last minute run to Borders the day before to pick up yet another copy of "Don't Let The Pigeon Stay Up Late!" (An excellent kid's book, by the way.)

Yesterday the party was at 1:30pm, which implied to me that there was not going to be any lunch, so we made lunch at home for Cal before we left the house. For the sake of simplicity, I just made him pizza and a banana, two foods which require the least amount of assembly and preparation possible. Midway through lunch, this exchange, per Joe:


JOE
So how are you liking that lunch? Looks good.

CAL
It's good. I love pizza and bananas together. It just makes good sense.

JOE
Makes good sense, huh?

CAL
But you know what doesn't make good sense?

JOE
What?

CAL
You farting.


I've said it before and I'll say it again: this house is lousy with BOYS.


* * *




A few weeks ago we got some of that Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joe's, which, for those who don't shop there, is basically the very extremely cheap but reportedly good house wine. (Actually, it costs $2.50 now, but Two-and-a-Half Buck Chuck is something of a mouthful, and anyway sounds too much like "Two and a Half Men," that show with Charlie Sheen and Duckie from "Pretty In Pink.") I actually had a patient this summer who was a wine distributor out of Manhattan, and he swore to me--though perhaps the midazolam had affected his recall--that in his expert opinion, Two Buck Chuck was as good if not better than many of the much more expensive wines he has tried. So with that endorsement in mind, we bought a bottle of the Shiraz and a bottle of Merlot, just to keep around.

Not that I'm some kind of wine connoisseur or anything like that (actually, I barely drink at all) but I've been wanting to try this wine since we got it. But now that I'm back at work, there's never a window for me to drink it. I don't want to have a glass during the work week, because I feel too rushed in the evenings and if there's the off chance that it will make it difficult for me to wake up the following morning, I have to shun it. (See also: allergy medicine in the Spring.) Ditto Sunday evenings. Friday evening Joe doesn't get home until late, so I don't have any hands free, nor the patience to taste anything more nuanced than chicken nuggets and ketchup. So really, the only window I have is Saturday evening, which I missed this week. And the week before. And the week before that.

But never fear, I will try again next week! And for those purists who frown at the idea of me having a glass of wine when I'm breastfeeding, it's called first-pass metabolism, people. And anyway, I hear babies love the sauce.
planning my re-entry

I have a little under four weeks before I have to go back to work, but as with Cal, we have to lay down the groundwork for my re-entry into society early early early, because the whole thing's going to involve a bit of planning.

First thing's first--food. If I am to be separated from Mack for any period of time longer than, oh, say, an hour (he usually eats every two hours, sometimes every three, but sometimes after one), he's got to have something to eat while I'm gone. So since last weekend, I've brought the breast pump out from hibernation (it seems that sometime in the two and a half years since that thing's been in stasis, Cooper decided to use it as a rawhide chewing platform, because the outside nylon of the bag is coated in dog spit and cow skin parts--hygienic!) and have started laying the base for the Strategic Milk Stores. We are doing pretty well on that if I do say so myself.



Also, in the evenings, I have been giving Mack a bottle, just to get him used to the idea that equivalent food can be dispensed from either boob or silicone nipple. I don't want to wait so long that he actually rejects taking the bottle altogether, because if he wants to eat during the day, he's got to get on board with Plastic Mommy, you know what I'm saying? I know everyone gets all frantic about nipple confusion and rejecting the breast the like, but with Cal, I started introducing the artificial nipple for one feeding starting at just around two weeks, and he was able to switch pretty effortlessly between the two, so go figure. Babies--not so stupid as we think! I have been saving the bottle feed for the evening, so that either Joe or Cal can enjoy the experience of feeding the baby, and while they're all occupied, I'll take the opportunity to pump. These past few evenings I've been able to net about 6oz. during this one skipped feeding, which amounts to three fresh bottles for every one used. The stockpile, she is growing!

I have also been sleeping with my glasses on. SO I CAN SEE MY DREAMS. No, really, it's so I can check the clock throughout the night. I know that all talk of a schedule or regularity is meaningless between now and when Mack hits six weeks, and that whatever he's doing now, it's all subject to change anyway, so why bother--but I am trying to figure out what times he's waking up to eat. Overnight, he's still feeding about every two to three hours, and I think if we can engineer it so that he eats at 4am, and then at 6am, I should be able to make my escape for work at 5am without too much of a fuss. Either way, it's going to be hard getting out the door, but it will probably be a little harder if I have to tear the kid off me, possibly setting off The Crying and The Waking Up Of The Sibling and General Household Chaos At Dark O'Clock.

Luckily, Mack so far seems to be a pretty easy baby (he rarely cries, and when he does cry, all it takes is some combination of snuggling +/- foodstuffs to get him to quit making those little bird noises) so hopefully that will continue and we'll have a reprieve from some of the more pernicious aspects of newborn parenting--colic, staying up all night pacing the halls and the like. But nonetheless, returning to work does take some advance planning. For instance, on the other end, I already scouted out months ago where the outlets are in the bathroom of the women's OR locker room, so we're go on that. Ah, back to the days of breast pumping next to a toilet. Don't let anyone tell you that the life of a doctor isn't glamorous, kids! Because I forgot to tell you that the toilet is made of SOLID GOLD.