Expectations. They get us every time. Shepherd was supposed to be my full-term baby who nursed like a dream. I was so looking forward to needing nothing but myself to feed him, to having those sweet moments with him. Yesterday, though, those expectations had to be adjusted.
At two weeks old, Shepherd has lost 10 ounces. Our pediatrician gave us a few things to try to attempt to find the problem. After offering a bottle and pumping post feeding, it was obvious that Shepherd just wasn't eating from the breast. For the past two weeks, he's been taking in enough to stay hydrated but not enough to grow. For two weeks now, he's been nursing all the time but not actually eating. To get him healthy and growing, then, his days at the breast are most likely over. I'm pumping...again. I swore I wouldn't pump again, but I want to give this little guy the best possible nutrition. I know I won't be able to keep up with his demand, but I'll try my best for as long as it works.
Last night and this morning I was seriously depressed. This was not the plan. But then I saw that my sweet baby boy is happier because he is not so hungry. And then I remembered the yearning I felt last fall and winter--the yearning for a baby, not the yearning to breastfeed. Sure, it would be great to breastfeed my little boy...but I have a little boy. Shepherd is perfect and healthy and here. And that was the dream. Whether he's fed by breast or pumped milk or formula, he is the dream.