Today is Mike's first day of work at his new job. I felt very Laura Petrie-like as I kissed him goodbye and handed him his lunch this morning. Hank and I waved to him out the window as he pulled out of the driveway. For me, "Laura Petrie-like" does not mean, unfortunately, that I look all cute and put together. I was still wearing one of my raggedy, practical nightgowns that I can nurse easily in during the night, I had no makeup on, and my hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. I hadn't even had time to look in the mirror. You know, you do what you can.
There's still a high level of anxiety on the homefront, but we're being as positive about the whole thing as possible. I have a nice dinner planned for tonight. And the kids and I have lots of plans for the week.
I go back to work one week from today. I have lots of mixed emotions, as you can imagine. I'm obviously very sad, but I know the kids will be fine. And I do like my routine, so it'll be nice to get back into it. And even though Mike has a job now, it's really not an option for me not to return to work. We need my income, plus I'm up for tenure this year.
So, that's that. I'm doing my best not to cry, and I think that's all that can be expected right now.
Speaking of crying, that pretty much sums up my breastfeeding situation right now. I'm having tons of **'N' word alert** nipple pain again. I've been using the shield, but I find that Anne just doesn't drain my breast with it the way she does without it. And I'm afraid of screwing up my milk supply, not to mention that I get uncomfortably full on that one side. Nothing screams "NURSING MOTHER ALERT!" like having breasts that are 2 totally different sizes. So, I use it a few times a day, to give that side a break, and then go back to not using it. And applying my Lanolin religiously.
On Friday, after a much needed break at belly dance class, I came home to find Anne comfortably sleeping away in her bassinette after being given a bottle of pumped milk by Mike. As would be expected, soon I began to feel pretty full. Knowing she wouldn't wake to nurse until at least midnight, I pumped.
So, there I am, sitting on the couch with those two ridiculous cones and attached bottles stuck onto my breasts, when I glance down to check my milk progress. Left side, looking good. A couple ounces of milk already. Right side? Bloody milk.
All the air rushed out of the room. I let out a strangled sob and staggered off the couch as if I'd been shot.
I swear it, Mike had to help me into the kitchen to get rid of the biohazard. I was shaky for a time afterward.
That right side is just really, really bad. It did seem to be a tad better over the weekend once I started back on the nipple shield/Lanolin regimen, but I'm worried about it. I don't know if I'll make it as long nursing Anne as I did Henry. I'll do what I can.
This week, I'm just trying to take things as they come.