I forgot the adapters for the breastmilk bags at home when I packed up my pump parts this morning. Going to be a fun exercise in coordination pumping here at work in a couple of hours.
I forgot the stool sample cards by the changing table when I grabbed an extra fuzzy blanket out of Ike’s nursery to take to my mom’s this morning. Good thing she has no qualms about saving a dirty diaper for me, should he produce one while he’s with her.
I forgot to grab the apples out of the refrigerator to bring to work this morning. I’m hungry, and not well prepared to undertake the recommended elimination of soy from my diet, in addition to dairy. After five plus weeks, I’m just about used to not having all the delicious, creamy, milk-derived foodstuffs anymore, but removing soy from the already small mix feels like an even bigger mountain to climb. I don’t resent doing it, but….fuck, I’m just HUNGRY. I had potato chips for dinner last night. Far from showering myself in dark leafy greens. It’s been more about bacon (pop your popcorn in the grease – do it, it will make you feel good!) and those damn kettle cooked potato chips than anything remotely actually healthy. I need to make a trip to the local organic grocery store (no Whole Paycheck in our vicinity) and find some rice and/or almond milk and some dried beans and chickpeas and some tahini and christ on a soy and dairy free cracker some good, fresh stuff I can and might actually want to eat. I’m dumbfounded to somehow, despite the crap I’ve been eating, already be within five or so pounds of my prepregnancy weight. Bacon and potato chips can’t be given credit for that. I think I have to credit stress and rarely having time to eat. Not the healthy way I envisioned getting to this point.
I remember that this is all still far superior and easier to undertake and afford than choosing to give him some crazily expensive soy and dairy free formula.
I remember that the helpless feeling of holding him as he screamed while they took blood from his arm will stay with me far longer than it did with him. He’s already forgotten, I hope, and I hope it won’t need to be repeated. At least the actual venipuncture (the teeny tiny tourniquet alone will break your heart) means they didn’t have to squeeze a heel or finger stick wound until they collected enough to fill the half dozen (at least? I couldn’t bear to count) vials.
I remember that, as difficult as this all may seem right now, it’s still likely nothing other than prolonged breastmilk jaundice-related weirdness exacerbated by a dairy or soy (or other?) sensitivity or Rh factor incompatibility. We are only pursuing the additional testing to rule out things that could be serious. Just being in a children’s hospital makes it obvious that we are damned lucky. Things could be so much worse, and they are, for so many kids and their families.
I remember that I’m extraordinarily lucky to even have this baby to worry over.