+ Crying over spilled milk +
Yes, that's what I did this morning; I cried over spilled milk. Why? Well, now, that's a long story. It starts with Tuesday, so let's go back there...

Tuesday was a rough day. I was sick; this cold had gone into my chest and I felt like crud. You appeared to be getting sick too. I was just waiting for the call from daycare to come get you, but it never came. And it was my worst day pumping. Monday had been a short day, so I was cutting it close on the milk Tuesday. It left me uneasy and stressed, and I got very little pumped. Tuesday night, feeling horrible, I panicked and realized there was no way I had enough for you. Furthermore, you were really crying a lot, and it made me even more stressed. I went to bed, setting the alarm for 1:30 a.m. so I could try to pump during the night. Baaaad idea. I woke up at 1:30, and stumbled in to try to pump. I got virtually nothing. Frustrated and too tired to keep trying, I went back to bed, only to wake up at 3:15 to you crying for food. This was a fussy one. You ate, but you weren't happy. We wouldn't ever really get back to sleep. At about 5:15, daddy woke up and came into your room, where I was holding you after eating again. I explained to him that I'd decided to call in sick. I was, in fact, sick, and I wasn't sure if you were too. Combined with the lack of milk (I had 3 not-quite-full bottles instead of 4 full ones), it all seemed hopeless. After crying for ages and half-arguing about breastfeeding, formula, my own insecurities as a mother and more, we decided that I would go to work, you would go to school, and daddy would pick you up around 2:00 when he was done with his work. We figured he would listen to you cry, and could deal with it because he knew why you were crying and knew when I would be home. You actually did quite well, really only crying for about 1/2 hour before I got there.

I did a lot of research yesterday, but still wasn't okay with the idea that I might end up having to supplement if I continued to have this problem. Finally, I talked to my mom (your grandma) about it, and she said all the right things. I cried a little, but generally felt at peace with the idea that I have to do what's right for you. I'm going to fight to breastfeed you 100%, but if I can't, I can't have you starve, either. So, based on my research earlier in the day, I enlisted daddy to join us as we ventured to Wal-Mart for some hypoallergenic formula and some other unrelated supplies. We bought it, you were perfectly behaved the whole trip, and I was at peace with the world. We went home and you nursed all evening, going to bed sleepy and happy. I hopped in the shower, pumped some more and went to bed sleepy and peaceful myself.

You see, I was able to pump enough yesterday after all. After your 3:30 a.m. feeding this morning, I went in and pumped the other side... and got 3 oz. more! That was the last bit I needed. So you wouldn't need formula today after all. This new pumping schedule (added one at work, plus the early morning one) would work, and the formula would remain an unused backup.

This morning, we woke up at 6:00 a.m. I was rested and content. I fed you again, and you sat in your swing while I finished getting ready. I prepared your bottles and diaper bag. I got the pump ready to go. I dressed and primped. Finally, we sat down for the final feeding at 6:55. You were happy, I was happy, we were all set. When you finished, I got you in your carseat and went to grab my lunch. As I passed your diaper bag and bottle bag, I noticed they had fallen over. No problem, I'll just pick them up. Why is this bottle bag wet? Why is it white liquid? Oh... No... I opened it up, and only the bottle with the nipple was still full (I bought more nipples last night but hadn't sterilized them yet, so Maria would just have to use the one for all bottles, like we've been doing for a week). The other three were at least 1/2 empty or more.

Somehow, I managed not to get hysterical immediately. It built over a few minutes. I poured what I could back in the bottles, cleaned up the mess and found myself with one full bottle, one mostly full bottle and one not-even-half-full bottle. It's amazing how a nice, contented, happy night and morning can be ruined in an instant. I gathered everything together, put it and you in the car and rushed off (late, now) to daycare.

When I arrived, I had stopped crying. But it wouldn't last. I brought you in to Maria, and started to explain what had happened. She asked me why I hadn't prepared the formula and instead only brought the powder container. Because you weren't supposed to get any! It was supposed to be a last-ditch emergency backup! Not now, though. Now I knew and had to accept that your "virgin gut" would no longer be so. Today is the day you will get your first bottle of formula. You are 10 weeks and 1 day old. Maria tried to soothe me (crying again by now) by showing me all the formula-fed babies in there. Yeah, that did NOT help. My baby is NOT going to be "a formula-fed baby." Period, end of discussion. Today was an accident. God willing, I will find a way to see that that container of formula never, NEVER gets used up.

After leaving, I was still hysterical. I called daddy to cry to him. He assured me it would be okay, but didn't know the right things to say. I called my mom (grandma) again, and once more, she did. She reminded me that the important thing is the one I have to remember: I DID manage to pump enough. I did it. I can continue to do it. It's okay to keep trying as hard as I'm trying right now. You really be okay. I have to believe and trust in that.

So, this afternoon I'm calling the manager at daycare, Vicki, to talk to her about my guidelines for the formula usage. Foremost in my mind? I want you hungry when I get there, not full on formula. They are not to give it to you unless they have to. I might even make them call me for permission first. I'll ponder that.