Off My Meds

I finally ran out of the domperidone that I had been taking to increase my breastmilk supply. I don't know what is going to happen now.

After finding out that my insurance wouldn't pay for it, I had a big decision to make. By that time he was 3 months old, and I was back at work. I decided that, as directed for going off the med, I would slowly decrease my dose until my milk supply began to decrease. At that point, I would stick with that dose until I ran out of pills. I knew that some people could go off the meds and maintain supply, but I also knew that some people cannot. Generally, the supply can't be regained once lost. I decided that I was prepared to take that risk.

I gradually decreased from 10 pills a day. I would subtract one pill and wait a few days. When there was no change I'd remove another pill. I eventually got down to 3 pills a day (the minimum dose). The amount I pumped each day at work had stayed level at 8 ounces, so I continued to take 3.

A little over a week ago I finally ran out of the pills. Coming to the end was really scary. I knew that breastfeeding to 7 months isn't too bad, and I enjoyed my time doing it. Still, I was scared to lose that connection with my boy.

He has begun breastfeeding less frequently. He'll latch on well first thing in the morning when he's very hungry and I'm very full. Most other times of day he'll squirm and cry if I try to put him on the boob, even if he's hungry and will subsequently chug down a bottle. My pumping has decreased to about 6 ounces a day.
Maybe his feeding is slowing down because my supply is decreasing. Maybe my supply is decreasing because he is slowing down. Maybe it is just his time to wean. I don't know.

I keep trying. Sometimes, the critter will surprise me with some good breastfeeding. Sometimes, I pump an extra ounce. But I'm not confident that I will be able to breastfeed for much longer. I knew it wouldn't last forever, but it will make me sad when I have to stop.

Things I will miss about breastfeeding:
the closeness I feel with my boy;
the way he looks up at me when he's feeding;
the way he plays with his feet when he's feeding;
the strange wonder of being able to make milk (albeit not a lot);
and, okay yeah, the bigger boobs.

There are, however, things I won't miss about breastfeeding:
pumping;
nursing pads;
and if this ends soon, I won't be sad to miss out on breastfeeding a baby with teeth!

For now, I'm going to keep going as best I can.

A lot of loss

My son was born this year, and that has been awesome. Unfortunately, the rest of the year has been a whole lot of suck for my mom's side of the family. My grandfather died in February. My grandmother on the same side died in August. Now, in October, the dam was washed out at my grandparents' place (now cared for by my parents) thus eliminating the beautiful lake on which the house sat and leaving only a small creek and a lot of mud. I'd like to think the losses are over, but my mom also inherited my grandfather's very old German Sheppard, who is very slow and nearly blind.

"Turn, turn, turn," I know. But it is hard to have so much taken away in one year. Although I realized that nothing is forever, I was hoping the critter would have more opportunities to hang out with his great-grandparents by a serene lake while petting a big, friendly dog. (His great-grandfather died two weeks before he was born, but his great-granny did get to meet him once.)

A Better Form Letter of Rejection

(Literary Managers, feel free to use this!)

Dear playwright:

You are awesome. Seriously. You wrote a play. You didn’t just get an idea that you eventually forgot about. You didn’t jot down notes on a piece of paper that you later lost. You didn’t leave a few pages of dialogue in a long unopened file on your hard drive. You didn’t say that you would write a play. You actually wrote a play. I applaud your obvious passion for writing.

Not only did you write a play, but you took the time to submit it to us. I appreciate the time, dedication, and bravery it takes to send your work to be judged by strangers. I am honored that you trusted our theatre with your words.

I regret to inform you that we will not be producing your play. You and I both know that this is a form letter, so I won’t insult you with vague excuses for this rejection. You can’t learn anything from the phrase “not a good fit” even if it is sincere. However, I can truly state that I wish I had better news for you. I took this job because I enjoy working with playwrights and getting to produce plays. I don’t like having to be the bad guy.

Please keep writing, and keep submitting your work wherever you can. Go and prove me an idiot for having sent this. I hope to someday hear your name in connection with a highly successful production or prestigious award, and I hope I will recognize you as someone whose work I allowed to pass across my desk. I don’t want to think that I killed your dreams or chances at success. Your success will help to ease my conscience, which is burdened by having to reject so many plays that I need to do it via form letter.

Sincerely,
Literary Manager/signed

A Tired Mommy Morning

For the first time in a long time I was too tired. Since having the baby, I am often (constantly?) tired, but I usually work through it. This morning I could not.

Perhaps it's because after a long stretch of sleeping through the night fairly consistently the critter has woken up for 5 nights in a row. His best nights in this series involve being completely awake at 4 a.m. On Saturday he was up at 1 and stayed up until 2:30.

Last night was a 4 a.m. night. Not bad, but I think the cumulative effects of this series of nights got to me. I was actually fine at 4. I fed him and rocked him for over an hour. Then I washed the bottles that we had left the night before. (This was the wrong choice since it woke up the hubby. Sorry, babe.) Then I went back to bed. Fine.

It was when the critter woke up a little before 7 that got to me. Usually, I get up and am tired, but once I see my smiling boy I am somehow able to get to active mothering. This morning that didn't work. For the first time since month one or two, I just couldn't find the strength to do it. I changed his diaper, put him in his pack n play, and lay down on the couch.

I couldn't sleep while he was playing, but knowing that he was contained and safe let me rest my eyes and my mind at least a bit.

He played for almost an hour before getting fussy. Investigation showed that cause was a very poopy diaper, which I took care of. Then I put him back in his box for a little while, but he was ready to be out. Luckily, an hour of moderate neglect gave me the boost I needed to become my usual mommy self. I let him wriggle long enough to prepare myself some coffee and breakfast. Then, I let him go free range under my supervision and participation.

A nap was a long time coming. After feeding him, I put him down to rest, but another poopy diaper disrupted any hope at sleep. After taking care of that, there was a little more playing, a little more eating, and a little more fussing before he finally fell asleep. I should probably take this opportunity to return to the newborn advice to "sleep when my baby sleeps," but I'm awake now. I can do exciting things like blog and brush my teeth.

Okay, so I only struggled for an hour, but it was a long hour. It's a good thing that today is my day off. Of course, if it weren't my day off I would have tagged my husband in the middle of the night, which might have prevented some of my exhaustion. All I know is that I'm hoping that the critter learns to sleep through the night again. And soon.

A Passive Aggressive View of Web Publishing

I turned of the RSS feed that sent my blog posts directly to Facebook. (Or at least I think I did. We'll see if they randomly show up.)

I found myself not wanting to post things because of I didn't want them posted on Facebook. Sure, this is a public blog. Anyone on Facebook could read it. But there is a big difference between putting something out there where people can choose to go and read it and having that same content post to a "wall" that it essentially sent out to people with the implicit message of "Hey! Read this!" When I want to talk about personal things, like the continued status of my breastfeeding challenges, I feared that many of my Facebook connections would have an "Ew! Too much information!" reaction; whereas, those who choose to find me hear follow at their own peril. If this is too much information, it is information that you chose to find. And it is your choice whether you want to return to read again or not.

If there is something I deem appropriate for my entire social networking circle, I can choose to repost, but the experiment with an automatic feed has proven too public for me. I prefer to hide in plain sight like the wallflower I once was.

On the Mommy Track

I’ve always considered myself a career-woman. Sure, I may have sometimes slowed my career (and earnings) in exchange for changes in specialty and employment sector, but I was always focused on being successful in my professional life. Even as recently as my maternity leave I applied for another position in search of greater challenges and visibility.

That most recent job pursuit resulted in three rounds of interviews. In that last round, I was one of two finalists (down from 20 candidates for the initial phone interview and who knows how many applicants). In the end, they chose the other person. I was disappointed, of course! Who doesn’t want people to think they are the best person for a job? But I was also a bit relieved. By the time the choice was made I had been back to work for several weeks and was increasingly unhappy about the time my job kept me away from the critter. A new job would mean a learning curve that would likely result in longer hours. The greater degree of responsibility would like mean that those longer hours would likely persist.

Another mommy had pointed out that with 50 hours a week in daycare the critter spent most of his waking hours there. That was a very depressing thought. On weekends I didn’t want to do anything without the baby because I was acutely aware of how limited that time was. My personal self began to atrophy due to the lack of time when I wasn’t caring for the baby. I was exhausted. Something had to change.

So, starting this week, I will be a part-time SAHM. I start working 3 days a week, which gives me 2 extra days with my boy and a lot of extra breathing room to occasionally do things on my own without feeling guilty for being away. By working part time (rather than staying at home full time), I’ll still get the satisfaction of my professional accomplishments, contributing to the household income, and just having a reason to know what day of the week it is. I am hopeful that this will be the perfect balance for me.

I am extremely grateful to my wonderful husband whose support (both personally and financially) is making this possible. I am truly a very lucky woman.

So, will this adjustment affect my future career opportunities? I hope not, but I realize it might. That’s okay. My priority is my boy. For all my accomplishments both professionally and artistically, this critter is the project that by far brings me the most joy. I never expected to not continue working full time, but I never expected to love motherhood this much. It is the most amazing thing I've ever done.