Bottle vs Breastmilk, my experience.

Let me be clear, this is not going to be a post showing the pros and cons of either one. This will not make the case of which should you pick. This is however a post about my experience with my child on how we ended up being both a breastmilk and formula fed baby. I always had this vision that I was going to be this powerful, all-giving mother that was going to easily latch her child to her breast and provide all the nutrients that she needed. While pregnant I made sure to read all the books, I new what foods were supposed to help with milk production, I was ready! I registered for bottles because everyone suggested it, but I didn't think I was going to need them. I was always a 36DDD, my size didn't change with the pregnancy, but I felt that if anyone could breastfeed, it would be me. The day my little girl was born was on a Tuesday through C-section, after being in the hospital since Sunday evening, trying to induce labor. She was ready to come, but my body wasn't reacting and due to other complications, at 9:45am, I had my little girl laying on my chest. We were taken up to our room and after check ups and making sure my sutures were good, we were introduced to the breast feeding coach. After explaining the "football" hold, I placed my daughter's little mouth to my breast, only to begin to understand something no one tells you. Breastfeeding is frustrating. With the coach in the room, after what seemed like an eternity, my little girl was able to latch with only the help of a nipple shield. What is a nipple shield, you ask? Some women, their nipple protudes out enough that the baby can latch onto it without a problem. That wasn't the case with me. Ladies, size doesn't matter, but the shape does! The coach I had that day made me feel at ease, and explained that the little plastic cone that she put over my nipple would aid my daughter in latching, since it was clear to her that we had latching issues. Throughout that first day, with the help of the coach, my daughter had both breastmilk and formula, since between the C-section, the latching issues, and other complications, both the doctors, my husband, and I decided to do what was best for our little one. The second day they changed my coach. And the lecture began. "Don't get attach to the nipple shield." "Let nature take over." "Ignore her tears, don't give up, she will get the hang of it." So and so forth, to the point where I was so frustrated I turned to my mother and told her in Spanish, "Either you get her out of here nicely, or I will do so not so nice." My mother asked her politely to give us a break and called for our nurse on duty. That Godsend nurse called the old coach and got her on the phone, and not only did she calmed me down, but asked the nurse to get me a pump. I pumped milk for my daughter that day for the first time. I never saw that breastfeeding coach again. I was blessed with that first coach who understood what the problem was. Not many people were understanding, in fact, many gave advice on breastfeeding and tried to convince me that supplementing with formula was bad. Others tried to talk me out of breastfeeding because they thought it was too much frustration for me. I listened, cried, was frustrated, and at the end, did what I thought was best for me and my child. I found bottles that had nipples that simulated the texture and shape of a nipple. I continued using nipple shields when breastfeeding. I supplemented with formula because I never gave a lot of breastmilk, even when I pumped. In fact, even after doing all that research, eating and drinking foods that aid in breastmilk production, I breastfed and pumped until I dried up around month four. My husband dried my tears, became my biggest cheerleader, and showed me that he loved me, regardless of how my body looked or what it could or couldn't do. My daughter is now fifteen months, healthy, and eats all kinds of food. And whenever I feel sad because I wasn't able to breastfeed her for long, or frustrated because of the issues we encountered, all I have to do is look at her and know that she is healthy. I am still friends with what I called my "breastfeeding bullies" and "formula bullies", and even went so far as to talk to them and tell them how they made me feel. Happy to say that the reason we are friends is because they understood, apologized, and friendships have healed. Whether you only breastfeed, bottlefeed, or do both, just remember that the bottom line is to do what is best for your child and you. For those interested, these are the products I used: Medela double electric pump Medela hand pump Medela nipple shield PumpEase Hands-Free Pumping Bra Avent Anti-Colic Baby Bottle Niple Avent Anti-Colic Bottles

Being a first time mom... after 30s!

Dear reader, In addition to being obsessed with fashion, bridal, cooking, and reading, I am obsessed with one other beautiful little thing, my daughter Genoveva. Now, every mother swears their child is the perfect angel on earth, that pregnancy was flawless, delivery was ALMOST painless, and staying home with the baby was the easiest decision. You know, urban myths. Here's my story. Morning sickness kicked in during month 3. Yes, it affects at any time of the day. Yes, I tried almost every remedy recommended. Yes, the husband did hold my hair, so you may ooh and aah as you picture it. Only days that I didn't get it, when I would have soda crackers with butter and chocolate milk at 3am. But please, don't think of what I just mentioned as a cure for it. It lasted until month 6, then picked up month 8, and disappeared at the start of month 9. Cravings are real, but not crazy. Mine included as mentioned soda crackers with butter, oatmeal, Chinese food, Grimaldi's pizza, and chips ahoy. Couldn't stand the smell or taste of Chipotle, and for those who know me, Chipotle was a staple once a week at work. To give it up for nine months was amazingly easy but disconcerting. Coffee was not entirely given up, because the doctor knew I would die, so I was reduced to decaf coffee, which was sent by mail from Puerto Rico, (my parents spoiled me that way). I was told a number of times that I was lucky because I didn't swell up, I didn't look really pregnant, and many people didn't even realize it until month 6 or 7. Being pregnant at 33 came with some known risks, since I have a heart murmur, but the one thing that really stuck and I hated was the, "Awe, you are over 30 so here's a list of things that can go wrong." Being told that my age was a factor on whether my baby would be born with Down Syndrome was one of the biggest scares my husband and I had. Let's just say that its not a voicemail that should ever be left. We chose to accept whatever God sent us. My iron was always a little low, so I had a chance to eat some really good steaks, and ladies, yes, you pee a lot when pregnant because you have to drink a gazillion gallons of water a day. I literally worked at my job up until the day before I was scheduled to go to the hospital. Again, because of my age and another complication known as an irregular shaped placenta, I was scheduled to be induced. My last month of pregnancy was one of whirlwind moments. We closed on our house October 30th, cleaned and painted the new house November 2-10th, packed it all up and moved November 11th, worked up until the 14th of November, and went into the hospital November 15. My loving mother, sister, brother in law, and my best friend upacked my entire house and set up the baby's room for me. Meanwhile, my husband and I joined the future parent's club at the hospital awaiting for our baby girl to come into the world. By November 17th, I was tired of the hospital, tired of ice chips, tired of medications, tired of the bed, and just wanted out!!!! We made the informed decision for the health of the baby and mine to have a C-section. She came loudly screaming into the world November 17th at 9:45am weighing 7.15lbs, 22 inches of joy. Recuperating from the C-section was easy. Recuperating from postpartum depression was a daily struggle. There were days when everything was perfect. And days when you look at yourself in the mirror and no longer see yourself. Choosing to stay home with my child was the best decision we could make, but what no one prepares you for is that your identity changes. I was no longer an Assistant Manager at a bridal store, I was no longer dressing brides or helping to plan events. I was smack in the middle of feedings and sleeping schedules, and breast feeding failures, and not recognizing the body that was in the mirror. And yes, you read correctly, breast feeding failures, a topic I promise to go further into detail on a next blog, but needless to say, my daughter thrived on both breast milk and formula until I dried up. Lack of sleep, little adult interactions besides the occasional friends and family that would stop by, not having to dress up, everything takes a toll. And like many, the added pressure of being "over 30" and that you should have your life figured out only adds to the stress. I was lucky. I have a husband who understood, who cheered me up, and who dried my tears and loves me in the new body that maternity left me. I had a wonderful support system of family and friends who saw through the wall I tried to build and who gently laid those bricks down. And I learned to love the new title of Stay at Home mom. Most importantly, the title of Mom Over 30 didn't scare me anymore. One look at Genoveva's smile and I am back to being in love with being +30. Motherhood is a beautiful mess. One that takes tears, courage, smiles, occasional breakdowns, and lots of caffeine. My journey is only 14 months, one which I will document here on what I will call Mommy Wednesdays. Hopefully, one day, Veva will read and see what joy she brings to my life. And for all those mommies who are scared or happy and need to share or just be listened to, I'm here, listening. Thanks, Cecilia