He’s 5 days old.
Having Miles home has been intense. I don’t think I was prepared for how much recovery would be involved in birthing a baby…there is no way I could have done it alone. At first I was in so much pain, the only thing I was really good for was trying to feed him and holding him while he slept. Mr. A was a rockstar and dove head first into the world of diapering and swaddling and doing everything to get both Miles and me anything we needed. Miles and I sure lucked out with him.
Miles and I focused on learning how to breast feed, and it seemed to be going really well until Tuesday night when my milk came in. Miles became fussy and couldn’t latch. He was visibly frustrated and I didn’t know how to help him. I kept telling myself that breastfeeding was supposed to be hard, but we would figure it out. He would scream until he would fall into an exhausted sleep, only to wake again more unhappy. By morning I was anxious and defeated. We headed to our well-baby check in and by the time we got there I was crying uncontrollably. When they weighed him, he had lost the max 10% of his body weight they will allow; and I cried some more.
The lactation consultant checked out his mouth and found that the roof of his mouth has a super high arch, he couldn’t tell he had anything in his mouth because nothing was reaching the roof of his mouth to activate his suck-reflex. We left the hospital with a new feeding routine: I pump for a minute or two and try to get him to latch. If it works, great. If it doesn’t work than I pump for a full 15 minutes and then hand it over to Mr. A. Mr. A uses a syringe with a tube taped to his finger to feed Miles. When Miles sucks correctly, Mr. A helps to train his little tongue to fully extend while giving him a little bit of milk. We spent all of Wednesday into Thursday morning with our new routine and Miles changed back to the easy happy baby he is. The best part: by morning Miles and I were breastfeeding without any help. Victory.
One down, seventy-billion to go.