pumping

I am frantically trying to build my milk supply back up. On our Hawaii trip back in December Ammon stopped nursing completely and I have had to pump around the clock to feed him. When I did Bikram yoga, my milk supply dipped for two days and we had to supplement with formula. This weekend my milk supply took another sharp downturn. I am beside myself trying to get it back up. I basically turned myself into a bonafide cow today and did (almost) nothing other than eat and sleep and pump-pump-pump. Exercise and dieting (things I am dying to do) mean no milk for my baby. I can either be fat and milky or not-quite-as-fat and have no milk. I hate to whine, but it really feels unfair.

I guess I did take Lydia to music, do Lydia’s music homework with her, go grocery shopping, read to the kids, bathe the girls, dress the girls, do the girls’ hair, monitor both of the girls on their online preschool, do laundry, tidy, visit with my sweet neighbor, make a cheese soufflé and steamed artichokes, feed the girls breakfast, lunch, dinner, numerous snacks, and clean the kitchen several times…but when I was not doing all that, I was eating, sleeping, pumping–and hitting the “like” icon on Facebook. Basically, I felt lazy and bovine-esque.

The girls liked eating artichokes. It was messy. Ammon tried to shove his fist into the piping hot soufflé but Abe saved him.

IMG_5009 IMG_5011My visit with my neighbor was lovely. Her name is Afton Jackson, and she must be in her late eighties. She raised six sons, and she shared with me how after her fifth son she had the impression to get pregnant again–only five weeks after her fifth son had been born! She did get pregnant again and had a perfect baby boy. When he was five and a half months, he contracted meningitis and became mentally retarded for the rest of his life. It was very sad to hear. She was the sweetest lady.

 

flower delivery

Abe was so sweet and sent me flowers today. I was visiting with my neighbor, Ethelene, when they arrived. The flower delivery guy said the flowers were for Abraham Darais, and it was funny explaining to Ethelene that someone had sent my husband flowers. Then I read the card and realized the delivery guy had gotten it wrong. Phew!

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