a new formula for success

Well, I tried to coax Marian back into nursing but she wasn't having it. Unfortunately bottle nipples are much easier for babies to draw sustenance from than the real thing, and she was not interested in going back to doing it the hard way. So I adjusted by pumping so I could still feed her breast milk, but that made my supply decline, because the pump is not as stimulating to milk production as the baby herself. So I called the office again to report my low volume and they said to supplement with formula if she'd take it; boy did she ever. When we went in today for our 2 week well baby visit, our pediatrician told me I should just go with formula and save myself the trouble. I've been a little heart sore that she lost all interest in nursing, since she used to obviously take so much pleasure from it; the contrast between the first week and the second has been making me sad. But supplementing with formula has made our lives so much easier -- Steve was able to watch her through the night for the first time and he thus allowed me the first 9 hour stretch of sleep I've had since before I went into labor. Last night, I did the same for him. Now we can alternate nights so we each get some decent rest every other night, and it does wonders for us. At a lunch gathering today a colleague who met us for the first time said that as new parents "we both seemed so calm." I took that as a huge compliment.
With the supplementing of the last week, Marian jumped in weight -- she's now 8lbs even! The assistant at the pediatrician's office actually double-checked if the scale was calibrated properly, and indeed it was. (Marian took that moment to pee on Steve; she's pretty mischievous that way.) She's in the 75th percentile for height and cranial circumference and the 50th for weight, which Steve noted makes her "just like her mom." I'll take that as a compliment as well.
Marian has turned out -- knock on wood, no jinxies -- to be such a good baby. The occasional bout with gas makes her cry, but most of the time she's snoozing, or awake and looking at the world with quiet wonder, or eating...she's healthy and happy and adorable. We are feeling very lucky.

Into the fray...

...a.k.a. you mean, we don't get to take the hospital staff home with us??

Not surprisingly, I've been bad about updating the blog. We are busy, and happy, and tired, and adjusting. On top of our new daughter,I've had work orientations all this week and we are coming up on the school year starting and thus the ability to get started on an actual, lasting routine for the first time since Steve started his Wyoming job back in April. Whew!
Things with Marian have been good, and challenging, and hysterical, and scary. For example, the first few days of figuring out breast-feeding were hard, but suddenly she was latching like a pro. At her second well-baby visit on Tuesday she'd gained back all the weight she'd lost since birth, which was very exciting. And then last night all of a sudden she would latch, let go, latch, let go, latch, let go, never fully glomming on and getting a full meal. We finally called the pediatrician's office this afternoon, after I became a wreck from being totally disturbed by her abstinence and my mom swooping in with suggestions and support and Steve working to keep me sane. Turns out the MD thinks she has a problem with dairy in my diet and must have just last night got fed up with the tummy turmoil and thus wouldn't really eat. She slurped down pedialyte like it was mana from heaven at the doctor's office and was not running a temp, so we don't have to worry about her being sick or having something major. So as the dairy passes out of my system over the next few hours, she'll enjoy some more pedialyte and then we'll try again later tonight. It was our first real trial and our first immense relief; one of many I'm sure.
When I first held her over those couple days in the hospital, I could NOT believe this beautiful little infant was ever inside me, the same way as I was going through labor I could not comprehend how there was ever going to be a baby at the end of the process. My pregnancy and Marian's existence seem somehow disconnected, and I can see how the stork legend came into play; it seems somehow more believable that a wild animal dropped her in my lap!
As a social worker I've been prepared for baby blues, keeping an eye on my hormones and ready to be a little weepy and down if it happened. So far, aside from my fears this morning, I've only felt joy, adoration, and pride. She's been allowing me about 6 hours of sleep total per night and I'm counting that as pretty lucky; Steve is able to get a little more since he doesn't have to feed her, but he's been great about taking shifts of simply watching her in between feedings to make sure I get actual time in bed without my maternal-baby-sounds-radar going full tilt.
Holding her when she's full and happy and awake and taking in the world around her is the best thing in the entire world. That and her smell. All the baby books mentioned the smell and I thought it was schlock, but it really and truly is unique and intoxicating.
That's about where things stand today, on Day 9. Each week she attains in her life feels like a small triumph and another step toward new and different and exciting developments.
Given the ramping up of my job and our continued adjustment to the baby, I know blog updates will likely be more infrequent than anyone might like, but it comes with the territory. I'll do my best to check in when I can.