Okay, I have to share this with you. The Lord has put this in my heart loud and clear. The message at church today confirms it and I gotta tell it.
This year is all about freedom. Freedom from anything that holds you back, has stopped you from soaring in the past or present. Don't believe the lies. You are free! Life is hard. I know. No matter what happens do not be persuaded to believe anything that does not look like, act like, talk like and love like God. It's not real. It is an illusion and if you rely on the eyes on your face, you will be fooled. Rely on God and God alone. Talk to Him. He wants to tell all about His glory and your role in it. He wants to hold you and rock you and soothe the pain. Don't give up. It's almost over. I'm reminded of these words from somewhere: Trouble don't last always. Who said that? It's true. Take a deep breath, hold on and get ready! If you believe, you will have everything God has told you about. Listen to not only what's in the bible, but what He tells you directly. God is still speaking. Are you still listening is the question?
To God be all the glory!
Peace be with you...
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Breastfeeding
I started out wanting to breastfeed my new baby. The reality that followed his birth alter that plan. It was evident from the first few feedings that Isaac was not getting enough milk. I met with three lactation consultants at the hospital who helped me learn to latch him on my breast correctly. These women were so patient with me. I was still so anxious about it. I had to start supplementing with formula the day after he was born. When I gave him the first formula bottle I felt horrible. I mean, breast milk is the best for your baby. Why couldn't I make enough for him?
I went home with all the written instructions on feeding and pumping. I already had a breast pump. I tried using it and nothing came out. I mean nothing. The second time I used it a few drops were in the bottom of the bottle. After talking with the nurse who works with breastfeeding moms at the pediatricians office and calling the hospital nursing line, I decided to meet with another lactation consultant. We met and she weighed Isaac after feeding from each breast. He was getting 1/2 an ounce from each breast. I was told he needed at least 2-3 ounces per feeding. She put a plan together for me and I rented a hospital grade double pump. She assured me all hope was not lost yet. I get home with this page long list of instructions and the double pump in what looked like a bowling ball case. I was determined to breastfeed my child. As the week went on I was able to produce about 2 ounces of milk per day. Still not enough. I rented the pump for a second week hoping I might be able to still make more milk. I gave up that hope at 4 am Sunday morning after feeding my son. The pain afterward felt like knives stabbing me in my breasts. I was in tears and could not take it any longer. That was it. No more breastfeeding. I cried because I hurt physically but also because my soul hurt. I had let my husband down, my 3 week old baby and myself. I can usually do what I set my mind to do, but not this.
Breastfeeding was the only thing my husband asked me to do regarding the baby. I remember the day he asked me to breastfeed. I was delighted. I also remember the day I asked him how he would feel if I did not breastfeed. I was grateful for his words. My man said, "If it works, do it. If it doesn't, don't." I felt free to stop if I needed to. I think he knew it was weighing on me. He came home one day and I was just trying to hold back my tears as I talked to him about the latest visit with the lactation consultant. Jesse told me to let me tears out. He hugged me and said for me not to hold in my emotions.
So, when Isaac was 3 weeks old at 4 am on a Sunday morning, I stopped breastfeeding. An article in one of my baby magazines was written by a woman who experienced the same thing I did. She did not produce enough with her first child, but was able to breastfeed for over a year with her second. I loved her story! For obvious reasons, you know why. With my next I'm going to breastfeed too! No, I'm not pregnant. Not yet.
Peace be with you...
I went home with all the written instructions on feeding and pumping. I already had a breast pump. I tried using it and nothing came out. I mean nothing. The second time I used it a few drops were in the bottom of the bottle. After talking with the nurse who works with breastfeeding moms at the pediatricians office and calling the hospital nursing line, I decided to meet with another lactation consultant. We met and she weighed Isaac after feeding from each breast. He was getting 1/2 an ounce from each breast. I was told he needed at least 2-3 ounces per feeding. She put a plan together for me and I rented a hospital grade double pump. She assured me all hope was not lost yet. I get home with this page long list of instructions and the double pump in what looked like a bowling ball case. I was determined to breastfeed my child. As the week went on I was able to produce about 2 ounces of milk per day. Still not enough. I rented the pump for a second week hoping I might be able to still make more milk. I gave up that hope at 4 am Sunday morning after feeding my son. The pain afterward felt like knives stabbing me in my breasts. I was in tears and could not take it any longer. That was it. No more breastfeeding. I cried because I hurt physically but also because my soul hurt. I had let my husband down, my 3 week old baby and myself. I can usually do what I set my mind to do, but not this.
Breastfeeding was the only thing my husband asked me to do regarding the baby. I remember the day he asked me to breastfeed. I was delighted. I also remember the day I asked him how he would feel if I did not breastfeed. I was grateful for his words. My man said, "If it works, do it. If it doesn't, don't." I felt free to stop if I needed to. I think he knew it was weighing on me. He came home one day and I was just trying to hold back my tears as I talked to him about the latest visit with the lactation consultant. Jesse told me to let me tears out. He hugged me and said for me not to hold in my emotions.
So, when Isaac was 3 weeks old at 4 am on a Sunday morning, I stopped breastfeeding. An article in one of my baby magazines was written by a woman who experienced the same thing I did. She did not produce enough with her first child, but was able to breastfeed for over a year with her second. I loved her story! For obvious reasons, you know why. With my next I'm going to breastfeed too! No, I'm not pregnant. Not yet.
Peace be with you...
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