If you believe after labor and delivery the pain is over, you are sadly misinformed. Quite the contrary, actually, as the recovery is pretty intense not to mention if you've opted to breast feed, there is always the possibility of engorged, sore breasts with clogged milk ducts (in both breasts at the same time, of course) that all of the painful massage AND your recently broken pump cannot relieve. If you haven't guessed it already, that's my life story right there. I've suffered through a few other clogs in my 7 week endeavor to sustain my child's life via my body, and I do believe I've come to the end of the road. For the past day or so, my pump has lost almost all of its suction--which makes expressing milk next to impossible--and just for kicks, I'm all backed up AGAIN. I've taken this as a sign from above that it's about time to tap into our frozen supply and slowly but surely ween Brady (and me!) off of breast milk. I feel like a quitter to a certain extent, but then again, I'd like to be pain free and healthy, please. It hurts to hold him close and when those little hands of his start flailing, it's all I can do to not toss him out of my arms and hold "my girls" instead! I contacted my doctor and she said that because I have almost 24 hours of this pain behind me, I should invest in a good sports bra (like I didn't buy one of those MONTHS ago!) and just wait it out. Super-dee-duper. And that covers the "boobs" part of the title; on to sweat.
It's been a bit toasty around these parts lately, but that's not what had me sweating this past Sunday. My mom, mother-in-law, and I went to a friend's baby shower and the hostess insisted we bring Brady (because he's so darned cute, obviously!). I didn't think twice about it because it worked out with his feeding schedule and a car ride always puts him in his "car coma." Well, not this time. I think my little man was irritated that he wasn't watching football and instead watching women fawn all over another baby while sipping champagne punch. As a result, he fussed the entire time, forcing all of us to go to great lengths to keep him as quiet as possible. That was a chore in and of itself, and it definitely stressed this new mother out! I didn't want to ruin this girl's day! Luckily, another feeding was in order, and that hushed him for a bit. But then he opted to poop the biggest poop in American (and quite possibly World) history. Through his diaper, onesie, shorts, blanket and onto his leg. By the time we made it to the restroom where I had the good fortune of changing him on a bench made for a mosquito, it had run into his socks as well. This, too, stressed me to the point of perspiration. However, I've learned two very valuable lessons from Brady's Poop-capades 2009: 1. When given the opportunity to socialize with other adults outside of the pediatrician's office, I shall do so sans baby. 2. I have upgraded my diaper bag and it now includes 2 of everything I own. I tried to shove Bella in for good measure, but there just wasn't room.
And now onto the "Tears" portion of my clever title: Brady has them! I'm not sure when his tears came in, but this morning when I went to get him (took me a little longer than usual thanks to my grotesque breast predicament), his little eyeballs were full! Not good that he was on the brink of bawling, but too cute to see those tears just standing there at the brim. He's just so stinkin' adorable--and developing so quickly. He smiles up a storm, laughs (only at my dad thus far...no fair!), reaches for things that catch his eye, and cries real tears. Oh, boy--tomorrow he'll be asking to borrow the car!
Enjoy the most recent pics of our little guy. You'll see he's still sleeping a lot during the day, but he's not too shabby at night either. We usually get about 4-5 consecutive hours out of him. Good baby...when he's not pooping on me in public :o)
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