I haven’t been able to get here to the blog in a while. Whenever I have the opportunity to put the baby down, I run around frantically, doing all the things I can’t do while I hold him, nurse him, change him, play with him, stroll him, walk with him…you get the idea.
Each day is so long but they go by quickly. I used to feel like that when I was working a lot, going from one project/teaching/rehearsal to another with barely enough time to scarf down a sandwich. I still, some days, barely have time to scarf down a sandwich, but it is more about space and having a free hand.
Abraham is spending more time playing and looking around at things. He smiles at us and at his mobile and the ceiling fan. He likes walking the dog and has been getting occasional tastes of bring outside without being super bundled.
A few weeks ago I wrote about exclusively breastfeeding him, which came to a halt at his 2 month appointment, when his doctor told us he had fallen off the weight chart. He was only 8.5 pounds, almost a pound heavier than his birth weight. I wasn’t making enough milk for him, which I expected, but still. So we have been giving him little bottles of formula, up to 6 ounces a day now. Thankfully he is still a breast man.
I don’t know why I got so upset about the formula. I chose to have a breast reduction 8 years ago, knowing that it may prohibit me from breastfeeding or at least limit the possibility. I knew while I was pregnant that my child would probably have to drink formula. Many babies do and they turn out just fine. And I can still nurse him. And now David or anyone else can feed him and enjoy that part of bonding with him.
Maybe that is my problem with it. A mother is supposed to nurse her child. I want to be that mother. I want to be the best mother for him. And I am failing him in this way. (perhaps that is an extreme statement, but that is how it feels)
But I would be failing him if I continued to only feed him myself without supplementing with formula. He gained 7 ounces in 4 days (which is a lot for a little guy), and he will no doubt be 9 pounds by next week, so I’m confident we are doing the right thing for him.
It is really about my ego. I’m sure this isn’t the first trial of motherhood my ego and I will rub up against.