So everything that I’ve read says that breastfeeding is a great way to help new moms lose some of that baby weight. I think the research shows that breastfeeding moms burn an average of 500 extra calories per day.

I’m not sure the science behind it, but personally I think the reason that breastfeeding moms lose the weight faster than those who don’t is because they have no time to eat. It has absolutely nothing to do with calories burned, rather it has to do with being attached (literally) to your new baby for approximately 18 hours per day. And Lord help you if you have a toddler (as I do) that you also have to care for.

I used to think that it was tough to find time to eat a decent meal while entertaining an almost two-year-old all day. I got used to eating cold meals and left over chicken dinosaurs. Now with a newborn to also care for, I am realizing what a luxury chicken dinosaurs really are.

Now back to the breastfeeding dilemma. The lactation consultant that I met with earlier this week suggested that I nurse for 15 minutes on each side and then pump for 15 minutes. That means each feeding will take approximately 45 minutes, well actually it’s closer to an hour by the time you get situated, feed the baby, burp the baby, put her somewhere so that you can pump. Then you have to get the pump ready and keep your toddler entertained during the entire process. By the time it’s finished you have less than an hour before the whole process is supposed to start again. During that brief respite, you go to the bathroom, play with your toddler so she doesn’t feel completely left out, start the laundry, empty the dishwasher, clean up the dog poop so that your toddler can play in the back yard during the next feeding session, clean up the toys so that the aforementioned dogs don’t steal the toys and bury them in the backyard, and if you are lucky you get a chance to brush your teeth.

Now reading that did you see where mom has time to eat or take a shower? Nope, you didn’t because that time doesn’t exist! So next time someone tells you how wonderful breastfeeding is lean in real close so that they can get a good whiff of you while listening to your stomach growl as loud as the biggest, meanest grizzly bear and tell them that you’d gladly change places with them for just 24 hours. Of course once that 24 hours is over, you might smell good and have a full tummy but you’ll be so eager to get back to your baby that forget about all the hunger and stinkiness and pop out your boob to start the process again.

I woke up Friday (April 6, 2007) at 3:30 a.m. having regular contractions about 5-7 minutes apart. This lasted for about 90 minutes. I, of course, had to pee so when I went to the bathroom, there was a lot of blood; enough to freak me out a bit. I went to lie down for a little bit longer and lasted about 30 minutes before a bunch of crazy thoughts entered my head because of the blood. So I woke up my parents and told them what was going on. Mom said we needed to go get checked so dad went to wake up Jason. {He’s sleeping in the motorhome, due to space challenges!}

So about 5:30 a.m. Jason and I headed to the hospital. We got checked in and they monitored my contractions and Sarah’s heart rate for a while. The doc checked me out and said that I was dilated to 3 cm, 75% effaced, but Sarah was still at -3. He told us to go walk around for two hours and come back. Two hours later we went back to labor and delivery, and nothing had changed so they sent us home.

We went about our day. I had contractions off and on, but nothing too regular so we went to Judy and Henry’s for a dinner with the family. About dinner time, my contractions started to get a bit more intense. So I quietly finished dinner and gave Jason the “it’s time to go home” signal and off we went back home. My contractions were 5-7 minutes apart so I lied in bed and timed them for the next three hours. They steadily got more painful and then got to 3-4 minutes apart so I told Jason I think it’s time to go. And I just prayed that they’d admit me and not send me home again.

By the time we got the hospital, I was in some pain. It took a bit longer to walk inside because I had to stop with every contraction and just concentrate on not falling over. We got checked in and my regular doc happened to be the one working. The nurse took us to the triage area and the doctor checked me out. I was dialated to 4 and 80% effaced, but Sarah was still at -3. Based on the frequency and severity of the contractions, the doctor admitted me and said we’d have a baby that night. It was about 11 p.m. on Friday night.

We got to a room and they hooked up the monitors, placed the IV, drew some blood and then the fun began. I lasted about an hour before I became a big old wus and asked for drugs. The nurse said the anesthesiologist was starting an epidural on someone else, then there was one other person ahead of me so it shouldn’t be too long. Almost two hours later, I was in major pain. I was crying like a baby for drugs asking where in the heck the anesthesiologist was. Finally the nurse said he was right outside and would be right in. About 20 minutes later he finally comes in the room. He tells me I have to sit and stay sitting for 15 minutes for him to start the epidural. Well I couldn’t even get to a sitting position it hurt too freaking much. They decide to check me again to see how close we were getting. I was now dilated to 6 cm and since I couldn’t even sit up, we decided to just try some fentanyl to “take the edge off,” there wasn’t time for an epidural. Of course about this time, they lost Sarah’s heartrate and decided they needed to put the electronic monitor on her little head to monitor her. At this point I just wanted this baby out of me, I certainly didn’t want anyone putting anything in me, but alas I had no choice in the matter.

The nurse tells he how great a job I am doing, as I am screaming and writhing in pain and says we’ll have this baby by 3 a.m. It was 1:45. I almost passed out at the thought of another hour of this joy. But the fentanyl must’ve kicked in because I started making jokes with the doctor that I was going to be a pooper because I had to go. They laughed and told me it wouldn’t be much longer. They told me with the next contraction to start pushing. So push I did and three big pushes later Sarah came screaming into this world at 1:55 a.m. on Saturday April 7, 2007.

Sarah’s delivery was the polar opposite of Allison’s but the results are the same - a precious baby girl to fill our lives with much joy ( and some frustration too!).

I know that people always say that pitocin contractions and natural contractions are nothing alike. Well now that I’ve experienced both options I can tell you without a doubt that contractions – natural or drug-induced – hurt like hell. Granted with Allison (and the help of pitocin) I think I was begging for an epidural before I even got to 2 cm dilated so I guess the natural ones were more bearable, but either way it hurt like nobody’s business. And since I’ve had both options I can say without a doubt – been there, done that and there’s no reason to do either one again!