March 30th – April 11th
Ok, I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything in here. But I’ll attempt to catch you up. I also figure that attempting on my end to really get everything down from each individual day is damned near impossible now that my parents are back home and I’m taking care of Zoe all by myself during the days. And well, I don’t want to bore y’all with the mundane day to day things.
We left off just after her two week appointment. She had another appointment at 3 weeks, because they wanted to check again on her weight progress. We were still worried that she wouldn’t be at weight, but we were pleasantly surprised that she was measured at 7lbs 12oz. But we figure a few of those ounces were from the feeding we just gave her moments earlier. But even with that, she was above her birth weight of 7lbs 5oz.
And as I’ve been starting to notice, I’ve had in general one day a week where I just break down. It started to seem like the rule, but we’ll get back to that. That morning’s appointment went so well, and I was attributing the run-down feeling and whatnot to the melt-down I had the night before. At least it wasn’t a full day’s worth of melt-down, it was only half a day. For that I was thankful. However, I did notice that in the car there and back to the house, my stomach wasn’t feeling that great. I was having pains that didn’t seem to be connected to my uterus or my incision.
We contemplated going out for an early lunch, but I had needed some comfort, so we decided to go home to get me some quick food and some coffee. Within a couple of hours, I was feverish and almost completely appetite-less. I felt so incredibly bad considering James made a fantastic dinner for us, with me specifically in mind. Not to much earlier, I had been craving homemade burgers, so he made some awesome burgers on ciabatta bread, with a runny fried egg on it, my favorite way to have a burger. On top of feeling horrible, being emotionally run down from the previous night’s melt-down and quickly coming down with lord knows what, and Zoe being pretty upset because she wasn’t getting enough from me…it was a bad, bad night.
I really don’t know what the heck I had, but I was reading high for temperature, and I normally read a bit under the normal 98.6 degrees. It took another day for it to really hit me the hardest it was going to. But I was already getting the shivers, needing tylenol, and needing to bundle up. Again, I felt bad for James since I was freezing, but he was very uncomfortable with how warm I was keeping the house. It certainly made breast feeding overnight very hard on me, especially if I was in dire need of another dose of tylenol to stamp down the fever and get rid of the shivers.
The next day my fever spiked to almost 102 degrees, which is not something I’ve had happen to me in a lot of years. I haven’t had a fever so high since before I met James. Oddly enough I felt better in general that day at least in better spirits, if not better physically, which certainly made everything just easier to handle. I’m going to assume that it was a re-fueling on oxytocin.
My stomach took a vacation, though. But a lack of appetite helped, so that I wasn’t spending my entire day in the bathroom. And oddly enough, when I did manage to get something into my system enough to actually make a trip to the bathroom, every time Zoe wanted to feed or was feeding, it seemed to trigger a need to run to the bathroom. I’m not sure if it was a psychological thing, or an actual physiological one, but it was certainly inconvenient. That night’s feedings were interrupted multiple times, which made me feel incredibly bad for Zoe.
Another day or so and my fever finally broke, but it took a few more days for my stomach to really settle down and for me to be able to not be in pain whenever I ate something. It took quite a bit out of me, and strangely enough a couple of days into being sick, my milk came in with a vengeance, which surprised the heck out of me considering a severe lack of nutrition I was getting at that point. (Yeah, just another thing to tack on to make me feel even more inadequate and incapable of feeding my baby properly.)
So, thankfully with the influx of milk, she was feeding well, which made me feel a lot better emotionally. But dealing with the stomach issue was not easy. And it still seemed that every time she would make it known she was hungry, I felt like I had to run to the bathroom. It was so strange that it seemed like an actual action-reaction thing, her needs triggering a sudden upset in my system.
It took nearly a week to feel back to normal, and get my full appetite back, and to not be in pain. Not sure what it was, since I had my flu shot during the first trimester of my pregnancy. But I’m glad to be past it, to say the least. And I’m sure she is too. Though, it seems that that magic production of milk has fallen off a bit again. I’m still producing enough it seems, but it was really nice to have what felt like an overabundance. I didn’t mind waking up to leaking. The leaking made me feel like I was finally adequate. I’d honestly prefer to deal with leaking on a regular basis than to constantly wonder if I’m making enough.
On top of that, I don’t really feel my milk coming in. I don’t have the mild tingling I was feeling initially. There is just no feeling at all of anything other than them sitting there like they always have. Large and in charge. It makes the little voice in the back of my head become the voice in the front of my head. And it’s not comforting.
As of April 11th, she is 4 weeks old! I can’t believe it’s been 4 weeks, but at the same time, it feels like it’s been a hell of a lot longer than a few weeks!