Finding our Groove

Parents have been a godsend.  I am still swollen and despite the steady stream of narcotics and painkillers, moving around like a 90 year old women who has not slept more than 2 consecutive hours in almost a week.  They grocery shopped, cooked, mowed and took more than their share of turns holding holding baby girl.  I am as happy for them to be grandparents (again) as I am for us to be parents.  We have had  a few visitors and haven't had to cook a single meal.  My parents ended up staying an extra day until Wednesday morning to eek just a little more time with sweet girl, visiting my brother, and helping/spending time with us.

These are all good things because Isabella, in classic newborn style, is confused between day and night.  Our girl is a rockstar of a sleeper especially during the day.  We have to wake her to eat.  This is true at night as well, except she takes much longer to go to sleep.  We are up every three hours, and are awake for about 90 minutes at a stretch.

Monday, Isabella didn't produce much output, which on the one hand was pleasant, but clearly troubling.  We had a pedi appointment scheduled for Wednesday, but I called first thing Tuesday morning and they told us to come in at one.

Her weight had not increased since we left the hospital Sunday (somewhere around 7 lb. 12. oz).  The pedi who released us on Sunday did not seem very worried about the loss being around 10% even when I brought it up.  However, the pedi we met with on Tuesday wanted us to begin a new routine.  Breast, pumped milk, and formula to supplement every two hours.  She also suggested we meet with a lactation consultant.

We came back for our previously scheduled appointment the next day.  She had already put on a few ounces with the new routine.  She also was given a clean bill of health and is in 86th%tile for head circumference (I told you she had a big ole head), 83%tile for height (20.5 inches) and 65th%tile for weight (work in progress).

The next day we went to the lactation consultant appointment.  I warned J.T. in advance that if she told me that I was part of our issues, I would likely cry.  And cry I did.  So you see, I seem to have this trifecta working against me:  c-section, infertility, and a limited amount of breast tissue (somehow my boobs were the one part of me that didn't grow so much-eye roll).  As a result, Isabella is not getting more than half an ounce out me and I am currently pumping only about an ounce or two at a time.

Why is it that my body needs significant intervention for anything related to reproduction?!?!?!  The only thing I seem to be able to do on my own is carry a pregnancy to term.  Which I am pleased about and recognize as no small feat; however, when you look at all the parts: conception, pregnancy, delivery and breast feeding I can only do 1/4 of these things on my own...it makes me sad:(.

She sent us home with a slightly modified version of our current game plan, and we scheduled an appointment to come back a week later.  Fingers crossed things are looking up in a week!