Status first morning of my annual trip to Colorado for Thanksgiving: exhausted.
This year, I brought my daughter, Alexandra along. In the past, I’ve stayed at my sister, Terri’s, home, in the room that now belongs to her eight-week-old son,
Everett. Unfortunately, Everett’s room isn’t quite finished. He arrived 10 weeks early, well before his parents were ready, and has only been home for a couple of weeks – much of which is spent nearby the new guest digs: a sleeper couch in the living room. I’m not kidding. Terri was up to feed Everett and pump in the living room every three hours.
Our first night in Colorado was a mess!
I’d hardly been asleep at all when Terri’s alarm went off to remind her to wake up Everett to feed him. (Did I mention that Terri currently sleeps on the other living room couch?) She changed Everett’s diaper, took the dog out, and prepared a bottle. Of course, Alexandra woke up. I shushed her back to sleep while Terri nursed. Everett was still hungry after nursing, and needed a bottle. To help out, I offered to feed Everett a bottle while Terri pumped. Alexandra stirred every once in awhile and I continued to shush her.
While Terri pumps, she pushes the milk out of her breast to empty the milk duct, but sometimes she only manages to push air out, resulting in what sounds like a really loud fart. Even if I had been sleeping, I wouldn’t have been any longer after one of her “breast farts.” Meanwhile, I learned quickly that feeding Everett isn’t like feeding most babies. I have to be completely awake and aware in order to make sure he is breathing, sucking, and swallowing. Afterward, I held him until Terri finished pumping, and then passed him back to her. It had been an hour.
We slept for two hours and began the process again. It all blurs together, but I think we did this three times. The last feeding took place around 4 AM, by which time I’d given up trying to get Alexandra back to sleep. Add Sam, Terri’s dog, to the mix on the bed and you have a picture that just about describes the night. (In case you can’t tell, I’m holding Everett).
Terri and I are 11 months apart. So are Alexandra and Everett. I don’t know how our mom did it. After one night, I am done. We have to figure out a better method.