judgement

ever notice that no matter what you do, someone always has something to say?
take breastfeeding for example. when i put a bottle in macie's mouth, people look at me like i'm giving her poison. really? i tried my hardest to breastfeed. i gave it more than a good shot. and most days i still feel terrible about it. guilty. like i'm not doing my best for her. so i don't need it coming from somewhere else. "oh..you're not nursing?" no. no i'm not. i apparently don't love my kid enough. do me a favor and call child protective services? thanks, you're a dear.
did ysee me crying for weeks everytime i nursed? everytime macie was sprayed in her face with milk? choked the whole feeding because of my massive over-supply? attempt to comfort her as she screamed (and i mean screamed) for every.single.minute that she wasn't sleeping?
doubtful.
so don't even go there.
let me just say that i am not one to keep my mouth shut. sometimes i just glare. sometimes it takes everything in me to not say something immature like "oh...you're not capable of shutting your fat face?"
if i am doing something terrible, call me out on it. next time you see me driving with a carseat on top of my car, tell me that you don't really think that's a great idea.
yet, i have to admit that i am also a culprit. i am not innocent of all judgement. i roll my eyes at the woman swearing at her kids for saying piss. really? maybe if every other word out of your mouth wasn't piss, they wouldn't say it? i scoff at the dad letting his infant suck on a bottle filled with juice. tooth decay much? but i don't know them.
i guess what i'm trying to say is that we don't know anyone else's story. if someone is harming their children, step in. but you don't know why i don't breastfeed. and i don't know why you feed your baby juice. maybe you have your reasons? i know i do.
we need to support each other. there are moms we will never see eye to eye with. everyone has their own parenting style. everyone is entitled to make their own choices. but it would be so much easier if we had people to turn to. maybe those moms that we're judging can relate to us. maybe they feed they baby poison too?

Sooo..after lurking for awhile, I finally caved and created my own blog. I figure it will be an outlet for me to maintain my sanity and put my sarcasm in writing for all to read for all of eternity. That's a good thing, no? I also plan on using this as a way to record the children's milestones. I'm pretty much an all-around baby book failure. So maybe this can supplement. Plus, why shouldn't I make my ramblings available to all? It would be selfish to keep them to myself.

Anywho, some background information. My name is Erin. I am a 24 year old, married mother of two. My husband is Matt. My son, Riley, is 3. My daughter, Macie, is 10 weeks old (TODAY. squeee. Because only I care).

I will be entering the last semester of my bachelors in health care administration. I am looking into ways to get my RN license. I am not sure if that will be through an associates degree, or a direct entry masters program. I currently work as a pediatric phlebotomist (drawer of the blood). Who doesn't love me?

And now onto the bane of my existence (well of my existence today): breastmilk. Yes, that is correct. Breastmilk is the bane of my existence. Breastmilk and all that goes along with it. I did not breastfeed Riley. I know, devil mother. Killer of children. Feeder of poison. I pumped for a few weeks. And that was that. I was fine with my decision. With Macie I was determined to breastfeed. DETERMINED I say. In the hospital she didn't latch well. And it hurt. "But it's not supposed to hurt" BUT IT DOES. I want to cry while my daughter eats. How fun is this? But I pushed through. Enter high bilirubin levels, blood draws, bili blankets (rant for another day) and formula. Apparently formula is supposed to bring the levels down. So out I went to sell my soul for a breastpump. Expensive? Yes. Annoying? Yes. Exit first week of life and exit high bilirubin levels. Re-enter pain. Eventually the pain did lessen. Enter inconsolable crying. And not just "oh the baby is crying" but "oh the baby is SCREAMING and I want to scratch my eyes out". Sometimes I felt as though she screamed to mock my attempts to console her. Sometimes I cried with her. Then I realized she hurt. Her stomach hurt. All the time. You know that crazyyyy mom that calls the pediatrician's office all the time? That was me. Like "Ohhh hellllppp meee. My baby is crying." "Yeah lady. Babies do that. {What an idiot. Call Child Protective Services}. So I let it go. Until I realized Baby M was either screaming or sleeping (and wimpering while she slept). So I called again. "My baby hurts." "Ma'am, you're breastfeeding. That shouldn't be happening" "BUT IT ISSSS" "Well breastfeeding doesn't cause discomfort" "Oh. OK. I'll tell that to my baby in 3 hours when she stops crying long enough to eat, only to start screaming like a banshee immediately after" "OK Ma'am. Have a good day" "Sure. All my days are good. If good makes you want to rip your hair out and consider leaving your baby alone in the house so you can just hear yourself think FOR THE LOVE OF GOD". So I did some research. I determined maybe I had an oversupply. I pumped an ounce off before nursing. The only difference was my frustration level. What's more fun than painful nursing and a constantly screaming baby? Painful nursing, a constantly screaming baby AND pumping while your baby screams. I also cut out dairy, "gassy veggies", spicy food, and, well, all food. No difference. Sooo I called again. "Ma'am that's weird. I can't imagine why that would be happening. (Unless you're punching your kid all day)" "BUT IT IS. IT IS HAPPENING". So I went out and bought baby poison aka formula. I'm all for breastfeeding. Really I am. I think I gave it a damn good try. Short piercing my eardrums so I couldn't hear the screaming, I think I tried everything possible. So I did the only other thing I could think of. I gave my baby formula. (judge judge judge). And.....it worked. The very next day my demon was replaced with a baby. A real live baby. One that smiled. And opened its eyes. OHMYGAWD. This is how the other side lives. Macie looked around as if she was seeing everything for the first time. Because she was. For five weeks all she had done was scream. And thrash. And claw. And scream some more. Since then I have been pumping. JOY OF JOYS. Until yesterday. Yesterday I gave her a bottle of half formula, half breastmilk. And...baby in devil form. Coincidence? I think NOT. Booyah stupid nurse from pediatrician's office! Yes, I derive joy from proving others wrong, even if it makes it sound like I am glad my breastmilk makes my baby sick. Point is, I was right and to me, that is what matters. So, in short formula=exorcism.