Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Today's the day

15 months. 15 months. That's how long I nursed and pumped for Weston and Walker. I had never supplemented with any formula. My freezer was full of liquid gold for each of them. I made so much milk that I would spend more money on storage bags each month than I would have on formula. I would have to switched bottles while pumping because the 6 ounce medala bottles would fill up from each breast. When Walker was 10 months old, We had his tongue clipped and I got mastitis. I was at Wayne for 5 days and Pitt for 2. It was horrible but I continued to pump because that's what I did for Weston and it had to be fair. I survived, he survived and at the 15 month mark, I stopped. Fast forward 2 years. We found out that we would have a third boy and it was never a question that I would breastfeed. Anthony has been such a supporter of my breast feeding so it would just roll on like the rest of them. In September, Waylon was born. Just like the other 2 he nursed perfectly...latched right on, didn't lose much weight in the hospital, ate for good amounts of time. Again, I had enough milk to feed the entire infant floor at Wayne memorial. I was pumping when he was 1 day old because the milk was in and there was a lot of it. I would pump 20+ ounces in each pumping session. Thank goodness I saved milk. Nine days later, I was at my OB office with mastitis. I felt horrible and I had a newborn but they gave me medicine and I felt better the next day. It lasted 3 weeks, usually. One week on the medicine and two weeks off and mastitis came back with an attitude, each time getting worse. We didn't know why it kept happening. They changed my antibiotics and each would work once, but not twice. I ended up in the ER the day after Christmas and I missed Christmas at my grandmas that night. It was taking over my life. My milk would be bloody at times, but I insisted that I was not giving up on this. I was going to give this baby the same thing that I gave the other 2. January came and on January 12, just like any morning, I went to work. I felt good. I hadn't had a recurrence since that Christmas episode. I was hoping for the best. "We got it this time"  is what I told myself. Then, around 8:30 am in front of 24 first graders, my knees started  hurting, I felt as if I was going to throw up. As I made it to my very good friend and coworker, I think she knew something was wrong. I really don't remember anything after that except being confused. They brought me home and Anthony took me to the Greenville ER. I was septic. They admitted me. 3 different antibiotic IVs around the clock. Breast ultrasounds. Med students writing all sorts of stuff on clipboards, a surgical team consultation, residents making rounds at 5am, pain medicine, being away from my boys, and so many OBs that I don't know their names. One told me "I've been a dr a long time and I have never heard of a woman who had had mastitis 6 times." That's right, I had mastitis 6 times in 4 months. But I got better, praise the Lord, and went home 4 days later. 3 weeks later, it was Waylon's dedication and church and I woke up with symptoms again. This was #7. I rolled on to church and the next day was at my dr office in Goldsboro. It's a good thing they like me there and I LOVE all of them because we saw each other ALOT. They OBs there told me to stop nursing. I had given it more than enough and I was putting myself at risk for another hospital stay. I listened, but I compromised. I would exclusively pump and all was well for a while. Then it happened, I wasnt keeping up with him. We were going into the freezer stash. I was pumping all I could and it wasn't enough. This was uncharted territory for me. I threw out frozen milk from the older boys because I never used it and this time I was running through it so fast. So that brings us to this week. On Sunday, I pumped and the largest clot I have ever seen came out of me. That was it. I know it was time to stop. I couldn't do this anymore. I have prayed about this...To be healthy and to be a peace with the fact that my child will no longer be on breast milk. Pumping and nursing a baby has been something that was so important to me for almost 6 years of my life, it was one thing in my life that I felt I was great at doing and it would be over. Today's the day that in his bedtime bottle, Waylon will get the last drop of breast milk that will ever come out of my body. Today's the day that I will ever feel like I'm giving my child the very best gift I'm able to give him. Today's the day that I will cry knowing that I will never hook up to a medela pump again. Today's the day that I know that Jesus has prepared me to do this. He heard my prayers and He decreased my supply so that I would not endure the pain of mastitis again. It was a not drastic decrease so that I could continue for this long.  He is giving me peace about this. He has given me the three best gifts that I could ever imagine being mine even if One of them is formula fed. When he's 5, he's only going to want chicken nuggets and French fries anyway. 😀

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