Monthly Archives: December 2017

Not Again…

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On Christmas day of all days, I started to feel another bout of mastitis coming on (#4!) I was so unbelievably fucking fed up by this time, and did not need to think twice about immediately instituting the preventative measures. As I watched my temperature climb on the thermometer, I took ibuprofen then got super aggressive with hot baths two-three times a day, I doubled my lecithin dose, doubled my probiotic dose, pumped twice a night, iced after feedings, used cabbage leaves, etc. I called my doctor’s office, and they prescribed antibiotics for me to pick up just in case things worsened and I needed the meds after business hours.

Despite my initial doubts, I also boiled and drank the Chinese herbs my mother mailed me (desperate times call for desperate measures). The herb concoction is a combination of peach pit, dandelion leaves, peony leaves, red jujubes (Chinese red dates) and some other plants, the names of which I do not know in English. I Googled these things, and was faced with a slew of non-information and/or warnings indicating these plants had not been proven safe for breastfeeding. Oh yeah? We’ll I’m pretty sure oregano, dill, and cayenne pepper probably also haven’t undergone vigorous FDA testing for breastfeeding safety, but no one’s worrying about random spices, so I’m not going to worry about random plants. Plus, I’m pretty sure the three courses of antibiotics I’ve required thus far aren’t exactly the best for breastfeeding either, so I’ll take my chances with the dandelion, peony, and unidentified roots.

The herbal “tea” tastes awful. Husband doesn’t think it so bad, but I imagine it tastes similar to flavors you’d find from a muddy puddle of stagnant water in the forest. Very appetizing.

After 3 days of this time-consuming and maddening routine, I declared victory, having avoided full-blown mastitis for the fourth time.

Christmas

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As usual, this month has been filled with delightful gatherings, dinners, and parties. I have loved this time of year since I was a child, whether in the form of wintry, white Christmases in rural Virginia, or sunny holidays in southern California, set to Christmas music by Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and David Brubeck. Christmas with a baby brings a new twist, because she is seeing everything for the first time, including Christmas lights, sparkly ornaments, candles, glowing decorations, etc. After having celebrated Christmas annually for over 3 decades, it’s fun to see how see a little person experiences the festive details as a newcomer to this planet.

This year has been no less busy than before, and we even had a wedding to attend in Los Angeles, among the other usual festivities. My boss was excited I can drink again, and we took a shot together at the company party (tequila for me, Fireball for him). I was offered the Fireball, but had to refuse. Fireball spells downfall for me; the sugar in that “whiskey” is death in liquid form. I don’t think I’ve ever had a shot of Fireball and not had severe regrets. On the other hand, bottom shelf house tequila never tasted so sweet, after an extended absence.

This is indeed the time of year to enjoy a nice glass of Cabernet, along with a winter-flavored Belgian, and new IPA’s. Still, I’m careful not to get too drunk because taking care of a baby while hungover sounds like total hell. Speaking of hell, Vale will go to church for the first time on Christmas Eve, and we hope she does not catch fire at the threshold.

This is not to say this holiday season has been without its bumps in the road. I was graced with mastitis round 3, more antibiotics, and all the accompanying frustrations. While Vale has slightly backed down from her insistence on eating only while lying down, the combination of this predilection, along with a distaste for the bottle, and dislike of eating with a cover draped over her face, makes feeding her in public or at social functions somewhat of a nightmare. For this reason, I’m sadly inclined to pass on a visit to Irvine, and a night out at Korean BBQ, and instead will opt to indulge at home, where wine is plentiful, and breastfeeding is easy.

Another first for this holiday season: This is the first time in 11 years we have not gone to get a tree together (Vale was a milk monster and we were running out of time, so Kyle had to go get it himself).

Three Months and Some

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Vale is 3 and a half months. She enjoys looking at fire, her own reflection in the mirror, and the Audrey Hepburn poster on our bedroom wall. She still looks pretty serious most of the time, but started laughing on occasion recently. The first time she did it took me by surprise; I laughed at her while we were laying in bed, and she laughed back at me.

We put on the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer claymation (a holiday favorite of ours), but she seemed more engaged watching Bruce Campbell’s antics on Evil Dead (the show). She has progressed quickly from carefully inspecting her hands and realizing they belong to her, to using them to grab things, and unfortunately, sometimes pinch and twist. I was working from home one day with her in my lap, when Fiona decided there was just enough space remaining in my lap for her to squeeze her butt in and join the party. She came upon my lap with her flank facing Vale, who proceeded to grab a handful of fur and twist. Fiona didn’t seem to mind, but I admonished Vale to be gentle.

She is becoming a bit drooly, and likes to bite on her hands (among other objects). The lactation consultant thinks she will have teeth soon. She also seemingly grows out of her clothes overnight. All the cute onesies and outfits we’ve received from friends and family seemingly get less than a handful of uses before they become a bit tight.