Last time, on MODGblog, we left things a little dark and dingy. Every time I sat down to follow up I thought that the gods of Itoldyouso would strike me dead if I said things were better. Because as I mentioned, I’m not declaring things any more. (but secretly, quietly, between me and you, things are a little bit better). But for a while, way worse. WAY.
Let’s rewind to an earlier time. A time of self doubt and water poops. After much debate and thought, we put Ruby on formula for 2 days. 48 hours exactly. We tried this experiment before but I broke down after about 20 hours and nursed her. This time, I wanted to give in. I told myself that she was going to forget how to latch. I thought, she would hate me forever. But then I reminded myself that I HAD to see this through. I had to see if her symptoms improved on formula. Because if they did, I’d switch.
Friends, let’s talk about those 48 hours. Here is a sample hour:
Pump boobs. While pumping boobs, play “trains” with G. Hold one boob pump in one hand and Thomas in the other. Say “choo choo” in sync with the woosh woosh of the pump. Drop pump. Spill milk. Ruby is somewhere. Who knows. There IS sense in crying over spilled breast milk. Do it over again. Fill bottle with formula and fill freezer bag with breast milk. Convince Ruby for 20 minutes to take the formula. It smells like Doritos. Tell her that Doritos are awesome. G screams MORE TRAINS MORE TRAINS. No sweetie, I have to give Ruby her lunch. G hears lunch and throws all the foods from the freezer onto the floor. Ruby finally is sucking on the bottle. Can’t move. G knows this. G takes all of the chairs in the room and moves them against the wall so he can dance on them. With his shirt off. Then he poops. So does Ruby. On me. Clean all bottles, pumps, etc.
DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN.
Seriously hardest 48 hours of my life.
But it was over. And you know what? She was better. But to be sure, I wanted to breastfeed her for the following 48 hours to see if my milk freaked her little body out again.
It didn’t.
I can’t explain it. But it didn’t. And one week later, she is still going strong. She farts still and poops weird, but she’s ok. I have been off of all grains, dairy, soy, chocolate, caffeine, and sugar now for a few weeks. It’s actually not as hellacious as it sounds. And I think it’s helping her. I am also on a load of supplements to help with digestion and my gut.
And then I had a lactation consultation. With an LC via Skype. In Puerto Rico. I know. But she is really helping me get this shit figured out. I attended a 3 hour webinar on healing the baby and the mom for breastfeeding stuff. Dudes, it’s hippie shit to THE MAX. But we’re getting there. And I’m on probiotics out my asshole. I’m drinking Kombucha. I’m fermenting foods and shit. It’s real in here.
B: what are you making?
Me: fermented salsa and fermented ketchup
B: What does that even mean?
Me: It means I’m letting it sit out to get bacteria in it.
B: Why? For science?
Me: No. To eat it.
B: This seems like a bad idea.
Me: It’s so I can breastfeed.
B: Oh well that makes much more sense.
So as of today, I am breastfeeding and we’re doing well. We do have a probable tongue and lip tie that is making things a little tough. But we’re seeing doctors and moving on.
I wouldn’t close the books on this though. Because as I said, every time I say things are better or worse, they then get worse or better. And AND I have a lot to say about mothering 2 kids. Dudes, we need to discuss that shit.
Also, even with eating rabbit food, not easy to lose the weight after baby #2. Your body is like, bitch please, I don’t trust you. You’re just going to either get preg again or eat that doughnut bacon chocolate gummy cake.
Thanks to everyone for your suggestions, support and advice. I used a LOT of it. Like, I have a box of formula being shipped here from Germany. Don’t tell B. But that’s thanks to you guys. So B, blame them.
xoxo
MODG












Hi I’m MODG. But you can call me MODG. You say it like Modg, like a Grandma name. Not like M.O.D.G. That’s a lot of syllables and I don’t have that kind of time. 





