Rambling: mainly whining, a little trying to be positive

The school year starts tomorrow and the cliche we all say every single August has never been more true: where in God's name did summer go?

Loves being dunked!

So proud of himself.

I'm trying to focus on the positives of a new school year beginning but there's definitely a struggle. Mainly, missing my babies. I've mentioned on here before I was with my previous class for three straight years (I looped with them from 3rd-5th grade) so this will be my first time greeting a new class in quite a while. I was kind of attached to those guys (the looping was at my request/begging).

I'm about the least touchy feely, warm and fuzzy person out there (the reason I'll never win teacher of the year), so it's a big deal for me to say things like "my babies" and "I'm attached". My friend just pointed out that I am Ranger Roy from Full House, best known for having panic attacks where he stopped breathing if someone tried to touch him. Yes. This is me. I hate human contact.

It worked out great because the whole class was trained to understand that I will not hug anyone but they understood that I loved them all anyway. I'm not thrilled to have to retrain a whole new bunch.

That's how I feel about it.

Naturally, I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I'm devastated to leave my actual baby full time again. I know I have been super lucky to have had extra time with him this summer. (But keep in mind, even if you don't get that at your job, you probably get things like raises, a desk, and air conditioning.) Summer school was part time, so I picked him up before lunch each day. It was glorious. And I did some curriculum writing/professional development/planning, but even though those were full days, they weren't nearly as long as full days during the school year.

I even had a handful of week days completely off. I think my favorite feeling in the world is waking up and going to get him (or, let's get real, sometimes waking up and rolling over to see him) and knowing that we get the entire day together and I don't have to be away from him at any point.

Waking up next to this face...I don't hate it.

Days of nothing but playing are the best

This is why I'm insanely jealous of stay at home moms. I know I'm supposed to be rah rah rah yay strong women and I'm grateful I have a job I enjoy and I'm proud that we're setting the example that we work as a team to provide for the family in our household. BUT I would give anything to have that feeling every morning (but maybe I need to spend time away from him to fully appreciate it? I can tell myself that at least). I'm just greedy and there's never enough time with him. Side note - my friend Jessy just wrote an excellent post about being a working mom.

Every day with this guy - living the dream

Back to the positive. I love my coworkers, and I got to know some students in summer school and they seem pretty cool. It's not like I'll never see Dalton again and there are worse problems to have than being obsessed with your child and missing him while at work. New beginnings are always exciting, and I'm feeling like it will be a good year. Especially since I'll be leaving this life sucking machine behind.



I kept wavering back and forth like crazy but about an hour ago I decided it's official. Dalton only nurses once during the daytime lately, generally barely even that. He's way too busy exploring, playing, and being a wild child.

In an effort to save some of our precious time together, I made some crock pot freezer meals. I did this last summer, because it's the thing to do while pregnant. Then I realized it's just an awesome idea in general, and doesn't have to be limited to huge life changes.

Did you know babies can't have honey until they are a year old because of botulism? I had to label certain recipes for after September 23 when it's safe. 

As much as I'm struggling with going back to work, I'm not exactly nailing it on the parenting front either. We have new teeth, which has led to biting, which has paired with separation anxiety, and bedtime has become a complete and utter cluster. Seriously, it's a nightmare. Except not, because that would require sleeping.

On that note, onward to my most hated task in all of life: setting up a classroom. I would truly rather spend the week cleaning toilets. Teaching, I like. Decorating, I freaking despise.

What's your absolute most hated task about your job?

Baby books for new moms and moms to be evaluated by a very slightly less new mom

Dalton is turning one next month! I've finally figured out the real reason breastfeeding is recommended for a year. It's so sappy mothers like me who tear up at the mere thought of "my baby isn't going to be a baby anymore!" can be consoled by the fact that soon he can drink cow's milk and stop scraping the ever loving crap out of my nipple. 

I'm on to you, American Academy of Pediatrics

No babies were harmed in the taking of this photo

Anyway, I THINK that means it’s safe to say we have survived the newborn period. I’m not going to spend time rejoicing though, because that means something far more terrifying is coming…toddlerhood.

And I think there's going to be a lot of "thank god he's cute" moments.

I don’t think anyone would argue that caring for a newborn is easy, but it is fairly simple. In my experience, the goal was keep the kid alive and pack some weight on him, and try not to lose your mind or burn down your house due to sleep deprivation in the process. There’s a lot of hands on experience, but not a ton of thought that goes into it. Shove boob in mouth, wipe butt, repeat.

But now, we have to actually think about turning this sweet little baby into a decent person who doesn’t suck and isn’t a drain on society. That sounds so much harder. Sure, I may get more sleep (key word: may) but I have to do really challenging things, like teach compassion.. And tantrums are coming. I can deal with a crying baby, it’s their only way to communicate, it’s not like they are doing it to be annoying. A tantruming toddler…I’m not so sure.

Much like when I was pregnant, I started some research. Reflecting on things, I read a lot of books while pregnant, but very little material that actually helped when the baby arrived. Here’s my thoughts. (I was going to link to them on amazon but I don't know how to profit from that using affiliate links or anything so if you want to read any of them just google it yourself.)

The Happiest Baby on the Block: This was one that really worked wonders on Dalton. I'll spread the gospel of the 5S method until I die, or have another kid that hates it. Naturally, I turned to The Happiest Toddler on the Block to prepare for what’s coming down the pike. I’ll report back on how that works out in 2-5 years. Right now, Dr. Karp, you are my God.

A Panic – Free Pregnancy: This book was awesome. There’s a lot of fear mongering while pregnant. And being pregnant is FREAKING TERRIFYING. It’s not like giving a baby peanut butter fear that right away you can see the outcome. You just have to hope things are A-ok with your fetus. What I found was that if someone heard something once from someone about not being allowed to have something while pregnant, they just took it as the law, and felt free to let you know they were judging you if you did otherwise. This book has actual research on what’s safe and what’s not safe and the varying degrees and basically tells you what you can and can’t do better than Facebook or annoying people.

Ina Mays Guide to Orgasmic Childbirth and Graphic Pictures of Women who Need Razors: No. Just no. My view of delivery (while pregnant) came down to one question: what do I hate more, needles or pain? And all these people (like my mom) were all like natural childbirth yay it’s the best! So I had this brief moment where I lost my mind and was like maybe there’s something to it, how bad can the pain be? I use LOL too much, like many of us, but I swear I actually did laugh out loud while typing that. This book came advised as the bible for people who love pain so I checked it out of the library and read up until the part where they talked about how birth can actually be orgasmic, NOT painful, and there were pictures. At that point I returned the book and solidified my position on team epidural. I think maybe a teeny tiny part of me held out hope that I would have one of those orgasmic deliveries but I wasn’t so lucky.

The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding: Word on the street was to ignore the stupid title and just dive in because it’s worth it. It did have some useful information but reading a book on breastfeeding while pregnant is like studying for the MCAT on your first day of undergrad (probably, I’m just a simple schoolteacher, but it sounds like the same idea). Most people need some help with it but it’s really not a good use of your time to read up on every possible problem and solution because it’s too much for a pregnant brain to retain. Just use the nurses and LCs available to figure things out once the baby arrives. 

Personally, I think they would do better just posting this on the first page and then "the end".

I did reread some of it when I was looking for new positions as Dalton got older and good thing I didn’t retain it from the first read because it would have made me feel terrible about having a c-section and not getting skin on skin time immediately. And having my baby born “drugged” just so my pansy ass could get some pain relief. I also don't seem to recall a chapter on what to do if your boob blows up like a balloon. Do not read.

But if I'd had a vaginal delivery, this picture would never exist.

What to Expect: This one was fun to read while pregnant, but it got a little redundant, and there’s too much information about what could go wrong. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t necessary. I have the one for the first year and I think I read like 3 pages at the end of pregnancy. Pointless. There’s really no reason to read what the baby is supposed to be doing at 3 months old, in my opinion. Just look at your baby and see what he or she is doing. If there’s a problem, the pediatrician will let you know, I’m sure. Otherwise, there’s such a huge range that I think my time is better spent either reading Where's Spot or books on toddlerhood in a likely futile attempt not to ruin my kid.

He's kind of fun to be with.

Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child: I borrowed this from two actual real life friends (one had passed it to the other) and it came highly recommended. Not to sound completely stupid and it’s not like I had to have a parent read it for me and explain it, but I struggled here. I would reread paragraphs over and over and be confused about what I was supposed to do. The book says to read it before the baby is born, and I probably should have done that instead of read about orgasmic births. But I tried when Dalton was 2 weeks old and I was all like I’m not sleep deprived and stupid I can totally read. In retrospect, that may not have been the case. I got some good info out of it, like learning his cues and not keeping him up more than an hour, but overall it made me cry because I was doing everything wrong and Eric threatened to throw it away.

And as a result, we have been cursed with a miserable child.

The Sleep Lady: Things were all well and good here until she started being all smug and braggy about how both her kids slept through the night by 8 weeks old. Then she starts in with all these detailed nap plans that you need to do in order to get your kid sleeping through the night. Good, thanks, I'll be sure to do all that while I'm at work and he's at daycare. I pretty much stopped there. It might be a good read if you are going to stay home, and I might return to it if I ever sleep train since she has a gentle method. I'm going to write a sleep book for working moms and be a billionaire.

Wonder Weeks: Ok, in all honesty, I perused the book at a friend's house but only actually bought the app and never read it fully. Still, I swear by it. In a nutshell, it explains what in God's name is going on in your infant's head (based on tons of research about brain development) and predicts when they will go through "leaps". Leaps are times when their perception of how the world works changes, and, as probably most of us would, they act bonkers because that's freaking scary. The leaps are based on due dates, and maybe because Dalton was born right on his, it has been extremely accurate for us. If nothing else, it's a much more scientific way to deal with a fussy baby by dismissing everything as just a phase.

That's all that I recall reading, so I'll call it quits here.

Opinions on any of these books, or any other baby books, or how to books in general?

Who out there has had that perfect orgasmic birth? I need to hear about it!

The opposite of baby fever

Eric and I spared ourselves the annoyance of having everyone asking when we would be getting engaged while we were dating by just getting engaged relatively quickly (after 11 months). Then we made up for it by waiting 6+ years to procreate. This gave us plenty of time to enjoy people requesting and/or ordering us to have children. I recommend everyone ask any married childless couple these questions as much as humanly possible, it's so much fun to hear. I'm even guilty of it myself.

"Another baby in your life? Unthinkable."

I thought actually having a child would finally put an end to that, but no, as soon as the kid is out of the womb, sometimes even before, it starts again. "When are you having number 2? You really should do it now before you get too old." Well you really should pay our daycare bill if you want that so bad and while you're at it maybe breastfeed this hypothetical baby because I would like a hot minute with no one on my boobs.

Hard to blame people....we are a beautiful family, as evidenced by this perfect photo.

As cute as another child would be, after a year of trying for a baby (aka giving up alcohol 2 weeks of every month), 9 months of pregnancy, and (hopefully) a year of breastfeeding, I selfishly just want a tiny bit of time with my body being just mine. Crazy, I know. We 150% do want another child. Eventually.

I had a real fear the baby fever would hit me this weekend. We went to New York to celebrate my nephew turning 3, and to snuggle my adorable new niece, who is one month old today. I understand it sounds ridiculous to talk about baby fever when I do, in fact, have a baby. They just change so quickly! My baby is no longer a little teeny tiny baby like Sloane! There's nothing like seeing a newborn to get those ovaries aching. But, at the same time, there's nothing like seeing the mom of a newborn breastfeeding constantly while recovering from a c-section to remember how much I don't miss that. I love breastfeeding, but it's a lot easier now that I'm not chained to my baby nursing 24/7. I do not love having holes cut in my abdomen.

I'm sure nothing can truly prepare anyone for the reality of how overwhelming two kids is. However, I very briefly took over for my sister, mom to a 3 week old and a 3 year old. When I say briefly, I mean like 30 minutes so she could shower. That made it real enough for me. I'm really enjoying devoting all my energy and love to just one child for now, and I'm not ready to completely lose my mind just yet.

And I didn't even have Dalton at the time I was watching the other two.

Dalton seems to me to be a pretty awesome baby, the absolute perfect, best baby ever, in fact, although it's possible I may be biased. I'm positive our next child will be his total opposite and this frightens me. In particular, I feel we have been exceptionally lucky that he is not a crier (as far as babies go), he's generally very happy, and has always been a good eater and gained weight consistently. Clearly the next one will be colicky, terrible at nursing, and probably only eat purees until 18 months to punish us for having it so easy this time around. Although, by that logic, at least the next baby will be a great sleeper.

On the drive up, we once again took a hit in the "things every single baby loves but not yours" category (see also: Rock and Play, Swing). When we did the ten hour drive to Ohio last month, we just left at naptime and took tons of breaks. It wasn't awful, but it wasn't great. "Leave at bedtime!" said every parent ever. "They'll just sleep the whole time and won't even know they are in the car, and then whoever sleeps in the car can wake up with the baby!". Well, I already knew that driving late at night OR sleeping in the car were both out of the question for me, so I just had to accept that I wasn't going to be sleeping that much. It seemed like a fair trade for a peaceful trip that didn't ruin Dalton's life by confining him to the car seat during peak playtime hours.

He's really devoted to his playing.

We left at 6:45 and Dalton was passed out by 7. Everyone was right! We were chatting and laughing and everything was just fine and dandy until we stopped for a bathroom break about 2 hours later. Dalton woke up and was like WTF THIS IS NOT MY CRIB THIS IS TERRIBLE. We tried everything to calm him but he was screaming hysterically and crying real tears and did not appreciate that he could see me but I couldn't pick him up, unless we stopped, which kind of defeated the purpose of the trip. I can't stand to hear him cry for even three seconds, as evidenced by the fact that I would rather spend ten months waking up every night than five minutes letting him cry it out. And he seriously never cries like that, even when he gets hurt. It went on forever although in reality it was probably like ten minutes, but that was enough and we both were just like NO and decided to get a hotel. As usual, my mom hooked us up and found one on Priceline that was 15 minutes away and only $61. Binge watching Giggle Gang kept things at an angry snuffling level rather than screaming like a banshee, and as soon as he was out of the car and in the king sized bed, he was beyond thrilled and ready for a relaxing night of sleep.

I woke up to him attempting to crawl off the edge of the bed.

So ready to let us all get some sleep. 

How does such a tiny person take up an entire king sized bed?

Finally, the next day, we made it to my sister's house. This was the first time all three cousins had been together, and as you might imagine, the grandparents were just thrilled.

 Sloane's grumpy face...I die.

Harrison couldn't even stand looking at the above picture. Just the memory upset him.

Despite appearances, I swear these two little boys were psyched to see each other.

Dalton just crawled around the yard, chasing Harrison and his mower. And we died of cuteness.

And then somehow we decided the cuteness wasn't even enough and brought in more from outside sources. My friend Jessy (check out her blog, it's awesome!) brought her adorable daughter over to visit. 

Yeah, this collar's popped.

We were good friends in high school, but lost touch and I don't think we've seen each other in...14 years? We both had babies and reconnected. I swear motherhood is the best thing I've ever done for my social life, aside from blogging.

I got 3.5 days of no work, newborn snuggles, hilarious 3 year old stories and dances, slobbery open mouth Dalton kisses, and delicious food. It was a perfect little summer vacation.

Ladybug bum STOP with the cuteness baby girl clothes!

Even managed to enjoy some time with the adults in the family, in this case laughing at childhood photos.

Apparently a lot of babies Dalton's age have separation anxiety. I wouldn't know, because my child came out of the womb with separation anxiety. Anyone who has met him knows he really, really likes to keep tabs on me. Travel really intensified things, though. By our third day in New York I couldn't even run to the bathroom without him screaming in panic? Anger? I can't even pretend I don't love it. I want him to be a mamas boy for life.

Eric wanted to play with him so badly, and he just wanted to keep a death grip on my knee.

Which question is more annoying: 

• When are you getting engaged?
• When are you having a baby?
• When are you having a second baby?

Do you believe in the rule that everybody gets one "easy" baby (so if it's your first, you're screwed)?

A post not entirely about my boobs

I didn't have to go the ER this weekend to ask them to milk me. Progress! I told my friend about the whole saga this weekend and she correctly understood that the only solution is to breastfeed until I die. The main issue is milk not being removed properly/quickly enough. Probably because my child stands up and gets into insane positions while nursing, but I literally don't have the strength to pin him down.

This weekend we had our housewarming party! I don't have any pictures because I was trying out this thing called living in the moment but imagine NINE babies all being freaking adorable. It's kind of a big deal for me because I'm shy and introverted at heart and I really struggled making friends when I first moved to Maryland from New York ten years ago. In all honesty, for years I still felt like I didn't really fit in socially. Looking around at our entire house and yard filled with people I like that actually came over because they like me was pretty exciting.

I did develop a new clog during the party and tried to get Dalton to nurse and he was like MOM I'M MISSING THE PARTY GO AWAY so then I had to go hand express into the sink but I actually almost stole my friend's 3 month old and nursed him and then I was going to invent some story about how once Dalton went to a party at that age and refused to eat when he wouldn't feed from her later.

It didn't inflate my boob to massive proportions though. I'm trying this new thing where I nurse on a "schedule" - morning, before afternoon nap, and before bed (and as needed at night). Before it was a free for all, which I loved, but now he's kind of over it and more into food. I had a meatball on a fork at the party about to eat it and he took it off the fork and ate it himself. Story of my life.

Sorry I really hate pictures of other people's kids with food on their faces but his GIANT eyelashes caught a piece of food at dinner tonight.

Anyway, I need to get my supply back down to meet his actual needs. After ten months of slamming fenugreek and oats and praying for more during every pump session, that's something I never thought I would say.

Ok, moving on from boobs. And bottles! Dalton has been taking his milk from a sippy cup at daycare for the past few weeks, so I just sanitized all the bottles and they are shipping on out.

Bottles have been toys around here.

Goodbye and good riddance!

We are taking them up to Rochester with us tomorrow to go visit my niece and nephew (and the adults in my family)! Have fun with little baby Sloane, bottles. I sure won't miss you. Unrelated, bring on the garbage plates.

My nephew is 3 years old today! I swear he was just a teeny baby, and now he is this sweet, thoughtful, adorable little boy with a hilarious sense of humor. How could this have happened? 

Love him!

And in other trite OMG TIME FLIES news, I sent out the invitation for Dalton's first birthday party today. 

"Hello ladies and/or gentlemen" (we try really hard not to be hetero-normative, especially since he can marry anyone now, YAY!)

I'm so sad that my sweet little baby is almost done being a baby, but also this age is just beyond fun. 

Going crazy laughing and making faces at me through the window.

I swear he learns something new every day. This weekend he started giving kisses and flipped all the flaps up in Where's Spot looking for Spot! Which sounds completely stupid to celebrate but it was huge for us, I've been looking for freaking Spot on my own for months now.

When we return, summer will be pretty much over. I even planned and looked at curriculum today. As per usual, pretty much nothing I planned got done, both in terms of fun activities and useful projects. But I got a ton of extra time with my little man, and his dad, and even some sleep! Overall, a win.

Thank you for all the supportive comments about all my issues. My boobs truly thank each and every one of you. 

What's your favorite summer activity? Mine is probably swimming, so I'm really glad Dalton likes it too.

My boob saga....part 2

This post is sponsored by Similac. Not really, but it should be, because I've put so many future mothers off breastfeeding at this point. It's shameful.

To catch up, last week I nearly had to stab myself in the nipple with a needle to unclog things, but managed to avoid that by using tweezers. Lucky me.

As you might imagine, I was hopeful to avoid that fate again, to say the least. When I realized I had a clog in the same spot this past Tuesday, only one week after the incident, my blood pressure started rising.

I managed to keep the clog at a manageable level with frequent nursing and, everyone's favorite phrase, hand expression (or is it just me who hates that?). The pump was not helping at all. Problem was, I have other things to do in my day than just milk myself.

I could tell things were getting worse, so I went out to Babies R Us and bought a hand pump, since mothers I know have had better luck with those. It didn't help.

It was getting worse and Wednesday morning I was starting to panic again. I thought that I had the solution (tweezers, nipple), however unpleasant. But even though I did try, I just couldn't spot a visible blister to attack like the previous week, so I was SOL. Pumping wasn't helping, nursing wasn't helping, there was no way out.

I called the lactation consultants back. This time they said I needed to buy a cabbage, put it in the freezer, then pound it with a meat tenderizer, place it all around my breast, and cover the whole thing with saran wrap, and lay down for at least an hour to use my breast to "cook" the cabbage. More than one person was convinced they were completely screwing with me. But, you know, desperate times and all.

Now my bed is full of cabbage.

Again, didn't work. It helped with the pain but not the overall issue. Last week, my OB said if this continued, I could see a breast specialist, which the lactation consultant agreed was a good idea. For those in the know, I've already run through the gamut of usual fixes. Hot compresses, massage, lecithin supplements, dangle nursing (that's a joke at this point, he just crawls away), etc.

Mr. On the Move

The breast specialist got me in that day at the request of my doctor, which was great. Making the appointment, I was SO relieved that finally I was going to see a medical professional who could help me.

I arrived at the appointment, filled out 25 minutes of paperwork, and finally the doctor came in. One of the first questions he asked me was what my breastfeeding goal was, which I felt like was a good sign. I know this is going to sound terrible, but when I made the appointment, and found out it was a man, I wasn't thrilled. It's a huge generalization, and I have an awesome male dentist, but in general, I prefer to see women. And come on, the title is breast specialist. I'm not trying to say he's not good at what he does, but get real. I could study hard, become a penis specialist, use as much compassion as possible towards my patients, but the bottom line is, I'm never going to properly empathize with how it feels to get kicked in the balls.

I started to feel like maybe I was just being sexist, and this guy gets it. But then he asked me what I wanted him to do for me. I kind of stammered "well, uh, you're the one who went to medical school, so...?". Then he told me he didn't really know much about lactation.

I was pretty thrown by the fact that he had introduced himself as the specialist of a body part and practically in the same breath stated that he didn't know much about the only function of that body part. Ok then, what, are you an expert in? Helping me use them to get free drinks? That's ALL THEY ARE FOR. It would never fly to be like oh hey I'm a lung specialist but breathing? Can't help you there, I don't know anything about that.

He emphasized that he was pretty sure he couldn't help me and told me to wean. He said ten months was "more than most women". That comment really rubbed me the wrong way. I'm not trying to win some contest here, and I really don't give one teeny tiny crap about how other women feed their kids. My goal is a year because that's what I decided was best for me and my son, so I just felt that was completely irrelevant and pointless.

Obviously I stayed mute because I was trying not to cry, and he said he would do an ultrasound just to make sure I wasn't about to die. He did the ultrasound himself, and told me that there wasn't any milk clogging anything up.

I was pretty surprised to hear that my engorged breast was milk free. He said production had stopped or slowed in the ducts on top (the problematic ones) and that the fact that it felt solid was just dueto swollen breast tissue, and again recommended weaning to get rid of it (but agreed I could still nurse when I told him I wasn't weaning).

Despite the rocky start, this was a huge relief, because if it was just swollen tissue, it wouldn't continue to blow up and get worse and worse like last time, I just could wait it out with Advil and ice packs and cabbage.

When someone wasn't stealing my cabbage

I wasn't too concerned about the low/lack of production, since the right side seemed fine and it wasn't like I needed to worry about starving this child. I went on my merry way, no more pumping, since I wasn't trying to get any milk out, none there!

He actually eats more than the average adult HLB. 

The night is dark and full of terrors, and when it hit, I was suddenly like "this diagnosis is sketchy as hell". I really respect doctors, they have a ton of education and experience, so I'm not one to play internet MD and second guess things. That said, it made no sense to me how there could be absolutely no milk in a rock hard boob. That's not what boobs are supposed to feel like.

I woke up at 2am, crazy engorged and in too much pain to sleep. I used the hand pump and got almost two oz, and then Dalton woke up and nursed a little on that side (and trust me he lets me know when things are not to his liking). Clearly something was in there, but I was still super engorged after nursing and pumping.

I went to work, called every doctor back saying my boob was twice the size it was yesterday, of course I got no responses to my messages. I had stretches of solid, lumpy skin reaching up almost to my neck. It was exploding out of my shirt. It seriously felt like a metal plate was under my skin. I made all my coworkers touch it and the general response was "go to the ER", and I would have, but what would they do that a breast specialist couldn't?

Facebook saved me. I posted a message in a local Facebook group (Baltimore's Badass Breastfeeders, FYI) and a wonderful LC gave me a link to a physical therapist that specializes in women's health. By some miracle it was in my insurance network. I had no idea physical therapy had anything to do with anything, but I called them, and they got me in within 30 minutes.

The PT, a breastfeeding mom herself, said she would treat me like it was a clog despite what the ultrasound said and I totally agreed. She explained they often help women with clogs and was telling me how she had recently seen the worst clog she'd ever encountered. I asked her to see how mine stacked up. The moment she touched it, she was like, nope, this is the worst. She then went to tell the secretary to call everyone with appointments the following day to figure out when they could fit me in because it was pretty much HOLY SHIT level and I really don't swear much on this blog but I need you all to understand how close my boob was to exploding.

She used heat ultrasound, then massaged it super hard. I'm guessing it's similar to a sports massage because it's the kind of thing where the more it hurts, the better it's working. After about ten minutes, milk started spraying out. She did more heat, then let me massage, then I was getting plenty of milk out.

As a final measure (until the next day), she taped me using Kinesio tape, the stuff runners use on their injuries. Apparently some moms have luck with it keeping the ducts in line with the nipples. I was super skeptical.

I went home and tried to nurse. Dalton had pretty much no interest and just went down for a nap. I decided to try pumping, with low expectations.

And here's what I got from the side that "had no milk". Imma need you to double check that ultrasound, doc.

I managed to massage it enough that the clog finally broke up and my boob is squishy again and doesn't feel like a suit of armor! That tape AND the PT are miracle workers. Next up: figuring out how to go a week without this ordeal (without weaning). Ideas?

Now I've spent the whole week milking myself or having others do so and this place is a hot mess and we have a housewarming party in less than 48 hours.

On a scale of 1-10, how much do you trust doctors? I was a 10. Now I'm down to maybe a 6 or 7.

But for real, breastfeeding is awesome (see above re: refusing to wean) and I stumped all the doctors so don't worry, it won't happen to you.