I realize by putting this post out on the internet I'm opening myself up for a world of opinion, criticism and attack but I've never been one to lot others opinions affect me too much, and this is my blog, my honest life. So when I write that breast feeding didn't work for my son & I, it is what it is. We tried for a couple of weeks, with less than adequate results. He was angry, I was frustrated, and the bottom line is that I couldn't produce what he needed. My milk, quite simply, doesn't come in well. Even with the top of the line Medela electric pump from the hospital the most I got was a few drops. I had the same problem with my daughter when she was a baby. I thought things would be different this time, but I was mistaken. Do I feel upset about it? No. My son is growing & content. My daughter, who was formula fed has never had more than a simple cold & is highly intelligent. My friend's one-year-old was formula fed and, like my daughter, has done everything early & his very smart. Heck, I was adopted as an infant, and therefore was formula fed, and I like to believe I'm rather on the clever side of things! So, no my son isn't being breastfed, but our bonding is far from lacking. He's happy, healthy & growing...that's all that matters really.
It's 6 weeks tomorrow. Time flies. Me? My body is feeling back to normal, if rather stretched out & in need of exercise. Mentally I'm in need of stimulation. Emotionally I don't feel postpartum too much, though I do admit to feeling a significant detachment from my husband. Time & energy don't really allow us much "us" time...and I'll admit I'm desperate for it. A little romance would do wonders. Perhaps for our birthdays?