My Pumping Journey

Disclaimer: Pro-breastfeeding Nazis can start navigating away now. This entry is going to raise the hackles on your back.

As with my firstborn, I was and still am on close (you will note the choice of words: 'close', not 'friendly') terms with the breast pump. Only difference is: while I was waking up at unholy hours of the night to pump during T's time, it was a significantly more chin chai affair with K.

There were very little pumping issues with T, very likely cos I latched him for about a week or so before my then confinement lady suggested that I pump out instead so that we are able to tell how much milk he was taking in. Perhaps due to the initial latching, milk supply was great and it kept up untill I had to stop pumping when I returned to work.

This time round, I had a lot of grief over supply levels and breastfeeding issues that cropped up (repeated blocked ducts and mastitis anyone?). At first, I couldn't come to terms with the crappy levels of milk I was producing when I had such great supply with T and was pretty upset about this. Was I doing something wrong? (Yes, I stopped latching K at a very early stage.) Does supply go down as you age? (Apparently not...) Can I do something to improve the situation? (Yes.)

Maybe it's a case of sour grapes. Maybe I am in denial. But I have made peace with the fact that I am never going to get the same supply I had in the past.

Unfortunately, I have also adopted a defeatist attitude. It is recommended that mums who are exclusively pumping milk do so every 2-3 hourly for at least 6 times on a daily basis. I personally disagree with this.

Case #1 - Unless you are lucky enough to have someone help out around the house, u will be permanently attached to the breast pump or kitchen sink. Add a screaming baby in the background while you are pumping or doing wash-up (yes, Murphy's Law will always happen) and you can imagine the levels of stress one will face.

Case #2 - The mum's body undergoes a traumatic experience during childbirth and IMHO, she is entitled to lots of rest while she is on ML. Even more so after she has finished confinement and is possibly taking care of the baby on her own on top of having to attend to daily household chores. Having to wake up in the wee hours of the morning or unearthly hours of the night is just punishing. Mothers are great but they need their sleep too.

I've got to say though, this second pregnancy/birth has unearthed many things I have never knew/encountered before - prenatal nose bleeds, blocked milk ducts, mastitis-induced chills, the works. While these are things to add on to my general knowledge, experiencing them are definitely not pleasant.

While I do want to feed K as much BM as possible, I will give what I can and forget what I cannot. In the words of a very wise friend when I was feeling low about this issue:

"Not giving breast milk doesn't make you a bad mother. There are many other ways to be a great one."

First Time & Second Time Mummy

When I first became a mummy and T's gender was revealed, there weren't many hand-me-downs from friends and relatives. Mainly cos my family/friend circles were small and T was one of the  few boys to have popped out (girlie chromosomes were dominant then).

Completely innocent of the prolific baby market then, I thought Kiddy Palace and departmental store (think OG, Metro) apparel were as good as it gets. One brand that stood out in my mind was Disney Babies cos I remembered gasping in disbelief when my aunties bought a jumpsuit set for T and I found out how much that itty bitty outfit cost. Buying stuff from Kiddy Palace became a thing of the past as I slowly picked up brand names (Carters, FOX and Cotton On Kids are personal favourites) along the way and turned up my nose at less-than-ideal clothes. Yeah, that sounded snobbish but I am blaming this squarely on being born a Taurean who are famous for their love for the finer things in life.

4 years down the road, K came along and the hand-me-downs came in greater piles as more of my peers popped. I also had fun shopping at Mothercare buying 粗穿 clothes when K started to outgrow her newborn stuff as this stage coincided with the Great Singapore Sale and the magic 4-letter word was plastered all over store-fronts. Think I went a little bit nuts with the buying though, cos there are still unopened packets of rompers lying in K's chest of drawers - Shhhhh! Dont tell my husband!!

The Front & Back Of It

For some reason, K has taken a pleasure in peeing on me during morning bath time lately, and it happens specifically when I am cleaning her face or when shampooing her hair. Stuff that happens while she is still on my lap.

When confinement ended and I had to take care of K myself,  I was bracing myself for the usual pee 'showers' that will inevitably happen. The first time it happened with K, it was when I was changing her diaper on the bed and the bottom part of her clothes suddenly became wet when it was dry a few seconds ago. Wondering what happened, I was trying to figure it out when I saw a drop of pee in (?) / on (?) her privates. It dawned on me then that K is a girl, and projectile pee *looking pointedly at her big brother T* wasn't going to happen with her.

Yeah, silly Mummy was expecting to be frontally sprayed by streams of pee by K, the same way she was sprayed by T four years ago...Honestly, I will take sneaky pee attacks over jetstreams any day.

See? See?? Girls are still better!

Still Harping On It...

Tonight is the concert by Power Station and Su Rui, 3 lengendary rockers. Wish I was there but considering that K is in da house, POOF goes that particular hope. Anyway, that's not the purpose why I'm writing this blog.

Fann Wong made Yahoo news today for a pregnancy shot that went public. Last week's 8 Days feature story was also a coverage of her pregnancy. It's with much glee that I notice her tummy is so small! She is due in Aug this year by the way, which makes her 8 months pregnant now. Of course, she is probably very happy that the tummy is so small, so she wouldn't have to contend with stretch marks (heaven forbid that any inch of that birdnest-infused porcelain skin be marred in any way!) or waddling like a penguin. The point I'm trying to make here 2 months + 2 days after delivery is: someone has a smaller pregnant tummy than me! Probably a cheap shot or an illogical reason for being so gleefully happie but to sum it up: 自爽!

See? So small!! That's probably me in my 7th month of pregnancy! 

The Pacifier

Nope, much as i like it to, this post does not have anything to do with Vin Diessel *drool*. Rather, it revolves around a boringly exciting tale of dinner and a pacifer.

So we were out for dinner at Greenwich V yesterday night cos I was so sick of eating tingkat and of rotting at home. In the usual confusion of last minute preparations for going out, I forgot to bring an absolute essential when going out with K - her pacifier. Unlike her gor gor, she is a pacifier 'addict' and will cry if she doesn't have one in her mouth when she is trying to fall asleep or soothe herself.

We got to our destination relatively quietly but once seated at our chosen makan place (which serves pretty darn good food at the prices charged by the way), the addiction kicked in and K started making disturbed sounds in search of the pacifer that we did not have. The disturbed heavy breathing changed to soft wails and everything went downhill from there. Papa tried rocking her in his arms while Mummy rushed down to the *thank goodness there was one* supermarket to get a replacement pacifer to detonate K.

When I got back with the magic item, K was sleeping in Papa's arms (which made me go -__-|||) but woke up once she was placed back in the pram. As if nothing ever happened, she went right back to sleep again with the pacifier comfortably in her mouth.

Lesson learnt: Rock on Papa Yeow!! Wahaha...

The Replacement Mute Button