This post was originally written on March 3, 2021 on our facebook group when Eloise was only a few weeks old, and before we had her diagnosis that something was wrong.
No wonder I’d been feeling hopeless. “If only I didn’t have to pump, everything would be okay.”
I added it all up.
Between prep, pumping, labeling, and cleanup it’s been taking 65-70 hours a week for me (and Brian when he’s awake to help clean up) to pump. That’s like working more than a fulltime job.
And, until now, I still haven’t figured out how to effectively feed her at the same time as I pump, which means time pumping = time separated from her.
No wonder it’s felt unsustainable. No wonder my stress level was going up. No wonder my milk production was going down. No wonder seeing no end in sight made me want to break down.
Everyone says “If you want to produce more milk then,”
- sleep more (it was taking me trying to nap between every pump session for 16 hours in a row to get 3-4 hours)
- stress less (when I was only outpacing her appetite by 30-50ml each day, that was hard)
- pump more (I was already pumping 9-10 times a day at 30-60 minutes a pump session)
- get more skin to skin with Eloise (I only had an 8ish hour window to do that, in which I was exhausted and stressed)
- take ____ supplement/food & drink more (oh man I have all the supplements, oatmeal, coconut milk, Maria capsules which are the thing in Estonia, breastfeeding vitamins, lecithin, omega IIIs, calcium, iron, magnesium, folic acid, 5+ liters of liquids a day which a lot of it is fennel tea)
Since sleep seemed the most likely to help everything, Brian, ever the product manager, had been coming up with a new idea every few days to help me get more of it since I was averaging 3-4 hours a night.
For several days we tried me sleeping in between pumping every 2-3 hours, but it took 16-18 successive hours for me to get around 4 hours of sleep with the mini power naps in between sessions and I was still a hot mess. That was not fun. And multiple times a day I would break out into tears because that was 16-18 hours I was separated from my baby.
So Monday night we came up with a new plan. (By “we” I mean Brian.)
I’d learned that a 5 hour stretch between pumping sessions was too long because that’s when I developed clogged ducts that I am still recovering from (as far as production) over 1.5 weeks later that threatened to turn into mastitis. Since then, I’d made sure to not go longer than 3-3.5 hours between pumps.
But Brian suggested we get a little risky. Go 4 hours between 3 pumping sessions in a row. And just do a power hour (40 actual minutes of pumping over an hour’s time) before and after each stretch. See if that would get me more sleep. So we tried it.
As a result, yesterday I literally felt like a semi-normal human for the first time in weeks. One app said I got 4.5 hours of sleep, the other said I got a hair over 6 hours. I’m going with the optimistic one. No wonder I felt better.
Not only did I cry a lot less and feel a lot less hopeless (I became a mom to spend time with my baby, not to feel separated from her 65-70 hours a week), but I had a great milk production day where I produced 250+ more ml than she ate. Considering she normally eats around 500ml a day I’d been producing 40-50ml more than she ate, that was huge!! I had hope.
We COULD figure out a way for me to sleep enough to be present.
I COULD produce enough to feed her without worrying.
I COULD probably do a little less pumping (either sessions or time) because I was making plenty.
And, most importantly, I COULD get way more snuggles in since I now had a whopping 12 hours where I was “available”.
I was a hope machine yesterday and today.
Unfortunately, yesterday’s “Mallory finally gets sleep after weeks of running on 2-4 hours a night” meant Brian was running on 2 hours of sleep himself. Because, also yesterday, Eloise had a really really rough 7 hours straight of pain and screaming and struggling to sleep so Brian needed to wake up to help. We had no idea what was going on until I put 2 and 2 together. The night before I had my first dose of cow’s milk in over a week — sour cream and cheese. Thankfully, I remembered we had a medicine handy a friend had recommended that breaks down the lactose. We tried it for the first time and her little body finally relaxed and went to sleep. We let her sleep for 5.5 hours straight. Poor thing. Lesson learned. No more cow’s milk for me for awhile. Oh well. Small price to pay. Goodbye old mostly vegetarian diet. Baby needs fed.
A few more great things worth celebrating while I’m feeling hopeful again.
Growth
Eloise and I went in to the doctor’s today. The doctor was surprised to find I “spoke Estonian.” I tried to explain I didn’t speak THAT well but sometimes the fact I can at least pronounce Estonian words pretty okay despite the fact my vocabulary and grammar are awful tricks them into thinking I understand more than I do. She spoke really fast, but what I DID gather is that Eloise’s growth is great. They are super impressed it’s growth only from my breastmilk. And these doctors don’t need to see us anymore. I did the calculations. She should be growing 20-30g per day. Well this little girl averaged 34g a day since last Monday. Wow that makes a mama’s heart less stressed.
My own birthweight
A few days ago Eloise reached my own birthweight of 6 lbs. (2.7 kg) I, too, was born so tiny that 97%+ other newborns were bigger than me.
Diaper graduation
We only have 5 preemie diapers (I’ve discovered they call them “pampers” in Russian and Estonian here, it seems) left of the 4 packs we ended up buying after a friend told us where we could get some. Which is a good thing, because she’s almost too big for them. (Same thing with the preemie clothes. The pants and legs on the outfits are getting too short. Newborn size, here we come!)
Breastfeeding baby steps
Baby Eloise is getting closer and closer to breastfeeding, I think. I hope. She’s semi-latching of her own initiative several times a day now. Okay, “latching” is maybe a strong word because it’s only for 5-30 seconds at a time, and not with any real suction. BUT these are steps in the right direction. Real hope we could get there someday!
Get-her-to-breast plan
A friend of a friend came over on Sunday to try to help Baby Eloise and me with breastfeeding. I learned a few more things to try, but more importantly she was a great listener who empathized deeply. I’d forgotten how restorative it is to have contact in person with other wonderful humans. She’s come up with a few plans to help. Next step? Take away the bottle and pacifiers (she hates pacifiers so that’s no problem!) and try to return to cup/spoon feeding. Eloise generally does pretty well with change so far, so I’m crossing my fingers Brian and I have the patience to push forward. Cup feeding a newborn is not for the faint of heart. We’ll probably try starting tomorrow or Friday, once she’s recovered from my short cow’s milk stint.
Helpers
Some angels from my hometown Russellville gently pushed me to set up an Amazon registry (one in the US and one in Germany) with stuff we needed. I was brave and put a bunch of pumping stuff on there that should hopefully free up more time to be with her. It’s stuff I’ve felt guilty buying on my own (but what if, very soon, she’s breastfeeding and you don’t need it? sure it might help you speed up pumping and get more time with her, but should you really spend money on it?), and my American independence wants to go “Nah, we got this. Thanks, no thanks.” But my new, exhausted mom-self says, “LET PEOPLE HELP YOU, DARN IT! IF THERE WAS EVER A TIME TO LET PEOPLE HELP YOU, NOW IS THE TIME!” I seriously have been blown away by everyone’s support.
Friends
I asked my closest friend here for a phone date yesterday. (She’s the one that made us the weeks and months and numbers signs after I broke down one night crying and asking if she would.) She said, “Wow, is this the hardest time ever in your life?” I thought about it. I named off several really hard periods in my life. And then I said, “In some ways it’s harder than anything I’ve ever been through. But the difference here is that it is also filled with the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. Baby Eloise.”
Okay, sure, I’ve still cried today. But they’ve been a vast majority happy tears. That tiny little body. Those adorable sighs. That startle reflex. That frustration when food doesn’t come fast enough. That insistence of being jiggled and wiggled and rocked to sleep in our arms.
This is what I was waiting 13 years for. I’m hoping every day we can figure out more and more ways of maximizing my time with this baby girl.
Next week, the day Brian goes back to work, we’ll see the geneticist. I’m hoping for good news (or at least mundane news). I’m hoping especially that helps point to those dark spots on her brain as nothing to worry about.
Eloise The Tiny Fighter 
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