Breastfeeding, Round Two: Part Moo

I have a pretty bad habit of getting into my head and not really being able to get out. The phrase, "Idle hands are the devil's workshop" might have been coined for me. Only it really has to do with my mind. If I have too much time on my hands, my mind starts to wander and then I start to wonder and it never really ends up well.

Knock on wood, but Eric and I can now say we have pretty easy babies. James was mostly happy, ate well, slept well and now here we are with Catherine. Catherine is an even better baby than James was, which is incredible. Only cries when she's hungry and fusses when she is falling asleep. She is already sleeping through the night (after a fussy couple of hours trying to fall asleep, but if she's sleeping through the night... I'll take it!) and the first night she did so, I woke up in a panic with my boobs about to explode.

Thus began my wandering thoughts. On any given day, she sleeps, looks around for awhile and eats. While she eats, I watch netflix or cruise the internet. When she sleeps, I run errands. I have a lot of time on my hands, but then again, I don't. So when she slept through the night for the first night, going seven hours without food, I panicked.

Thank you, Internet, and breastfeeding, for allowing me the time and energy to read allllll about babies and breastfeeding and the color of their poop and what it means when they spit up.

Is she getting enough food? Does she have enough wet diapers? 

Or, in the anxiety-laden other way of putting it, am I providing enough for her? 

Catherine had her two week check up when she was two weeks, and two days old. The first night she slept through the night, she was one week, four days old. The second time she slept through the night, she was one week, five days old. The third time, one week, six days old... and so on and so forth. And every night, she was sleeping longer, and looonger, and looooooonger until the night before her doctor's appointment, she slept 9 1/2 hours straight. Which means I did too.

As well as my boobs.

Holy God, I cannot wait to nurse her when I wake up in the mornings!

But I digress.

So by the time we were able to go in for our check up, I was in a state of pure anxiety. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, she's not gaining weight.

I about shit when they put her on the scale. When she was born, she was 8 pounds, 6.2 ounces and 20 inches long. Leaving the hospital, she was 7 pounds, 14 ounces. The following day, at our two-day appointment, which was actually only a day after we were discharged, she was 7 pounds 7 ounces.

The pediatrician said she shouldn't lose any more weight.

Combine that statement with the fact that my mind had had a chance to wander for approximately a week and a half, and I was about to go out and buy a baby scale so I could weigh her.

So back to the scale, which, when placed on it, read 7 pounds 7 ounces. Again. For a split second. And then she rolled over and the scale tipped to 9 pounds, 4 ounces. Holy shit.

My butterball had gained almost 2 pounds in a week and a half. I about hugged the nurse.

I exclaimed that I had been panicking about Catherine gaining weight, and the nurse simply laughed, smiled and said she obviously was doing great. I told her about how Catherine was sleeping through the night, later and later, and the doctor laughed, and told me to continue to let her sleep through the night.

Music to my ears! 

Little did I know, the hour that I nurse Catherine at a time, has actually been incredibly beneificial for her. She never seems satisfied and will eat for a good half hour/45 minutes. Sometimes even an hour. Add that to the time it takes me to "suit up" (or "suit down," whichever you prefer) and the time it takes me to burp her, it's usually a good hour of my time. Apparently, some babies only nurse for five minutes at a time (that would be amazing!).

It is more than a relief to know that I am obviously providing enough for Catherine. I am more than elated to know that I am able to 100% breastfeed without having to supplement (sidenote: we have supplemented about 3 ounces of formula, because she also likes to clusterfeed at night, which doesn't do any wonders for my nipples. Sometimes, mama just needs a break!!!). I am more than thrilled to know that I don't have to take any medicine, or panic because I only pumped 2 ounces in one sitting or really have any anxiety. Obviously, I am producing enough milk and then some.

So onward, Breastfeeding. Moo.