It's day 3. Locasta (our second midwife) just left after Blake's big Day3 visit. This is the visit when they look at my stitches, talk to me about paperwork a bit and most importantly, determine if he's thriving. Everything was great until we got him in the spring scale: he's lost a full pound of his birth weight, and that's just on the edge of acceptable. I've been flying so frigging high over the last few days, completely confident that he's beautiful & thriving & suckling like a champ so I can relax. Hearing this made me crash hard.

It's dealable. We have strategies in place, including pumping between feedings & supplimenting with this when he just wants to suck between nursing. We can probably turn this around in a week.

But we have to buy formula. And I keep thinking about all of the times I let him stop nursing after twenty minutes and I just want to die. This is, I suppose, what post-partum depression is like.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 12/11/2003 05:43:00 p.m.