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Depression, part 2
Apr. 17th, 2007 01:02 amGod damnit.
Wolf just basically accused me of sabotaging my own breast milk. What really sucks is that he has a point. Breast milk requires nourishment and I haven't been eating like I did when I was pregnant. It was easy then, feeling that little Wog squirming around inside. Now she's out, she's her own person, and while she still relies on me, she's not as totally dependant on me as she was. There are other people available to help feed her and since the doctors insist she needs formula...
Why bother? comes to mind.
Not healthy, I know, but there it is. My milk wasn't good enough, isn't good enough, and I'm under enough stress as it is. Thus the old, bad eating habits come rushing back and I'm producing what amounts to vitamin water and it's the formula that keeps her going. This happened with Markl, only slower. Becca's up to a full two ounces a feeding, an amount I don't produce on a regular basis.
I was eating three full meals a day, plus snacks. In the past three days, I've either eaten lunch late or just snacked my way through the afternoon. My sleep schedule is a factor, as I'm not getting up until well after nine, sometimes as late as ten.
For example, today's eating intake: one scone, one cup of cafe au lait, two cheesecake bites, three bites of shower cake, several handfuls of gummi candy, two truffles, a slice of thin crust pizza, a cup of milk, a cup of juice and a cup of water.
Yeah.
I'm such a lazy little bitch.
Wolf just came up and informed me my math is wrong. He insists I produce more milk then I think, that I'm lowering my own numbers whenever I dwell on this. I KNOW I can produce what Becca needs, I was doing that the first week. I was so proud of myself. But ever since last Thursday...
I have GOT to call the JC clinic tomorrow. I need to be seen by a professional. I can't do this anymore. I know I'm loved, but it's not keeping this depression at bay.
Wolf just basically accused me of sabotaging my own breast milk. What really sucks is that he has a point. Breast milk requires nourishment and I haven't been eating like I did when I was pregnant. It was easy then, feeling that little Wog squirming around inside. Now she's out, she's her own person, and while she still relies on me, she's not as totally dependant on me as she was. There are other people available to help feed her and since the doctors insist she needs formula...
Why bother? comes to mind.
Not healthy, I know, but there it is. My milk wasn't good enough, isn't good enough, and I'm under enough stress as it is. Thus the old, bad eating habits come rushing back and I'm producing what amounts to vitamin water and it's the formula that keeps her going. This happened with Markl, only slower. Becca's up to a full two ounces a feeding, an amount I don't produce on a regular basis.
I was eating three full meals a day, plus snacks. In the past three days, I've either eaten lunch late or just snacked my way through the afternoon. My sleep schedule is a factor, as I'm not getting up until well after nine, sometimes as late as ten.
For example, today's eating intake: one scone, one cup of cafe au lait, two cheesecake bites, three bites of shower cake, several handfuls of gummi candy, two truffles, a slice of thin crust pizza, a cup of milk, a cup of juice and a cup of water.
Yeah.
I'm such a lazy little bitch.
Wolf just came up and informed me my math is wrong. He insists I produce more milk then I think, that I'm lowering my own numbers whenever I dwell on this. I KNOW I can produce what Becca needs, I was doing that the first week. I was so proud of myself. But ever since last Thursday...
I have GOT to call the JC clinic tomorrow. I need to be seen by a professional. I can't do this anymore. I know I'm loved, but it's not keeping this depression at bay.
