Choosing to have a baby was an easy decision for me. I always wanted a baby; I never gave a second thought to having a husband/spouse/partner/whatever it would be. That part never really played into it … not that I thought I would be a single mother, just that that part of it seemed to be, you know, like the little details that fall into place on their own. The having the baby part was the centre that would hold no matter what else was circling around it.
Once I was in a relationship that seemed like it would last more than a couple of years, I figured it was the right time to move forward. I went through some discussions with HardWorker as she had never even given a thought to having a child. We went ahead. Well, I went ahead. I wasn’t just going to find some random guy to sleep with and hope for the best, I didn’t have a special enough male friend that I could approach for a donation so I went to my family doctor for a referral and got myself an appointment at a fertility clinic. After the intake person/doctor at that clinic tried to tell me that they would choose the sperm donor for me (some crap about ensuring that the baby would look like me since it would have a hard enough time with two mothers), I decided to get myself in to see a different Dr. at a different clinic. It was a totally different feeling and the people were wonderful. Unfortunately, I had no luck in the pregnancy department. I opted for a different Dr. at a different clinic. Again. This guy was the bomb! And if he was away, his partner in the office was another bomb! We tried a few different things. Leading to in vitro. No luck. Let’s try some other stuff. Another in vitro. No luck. Well, sort of luck sometimes. It is absolutely, positively possible to be “a little bit pregnant.” Really sucks when it doesn’t stick. After seven years of on-again, off-again, try a cycle, skip a cycle …. it happened! I was pregnant. Really. For good. YAY!
I had a great pregnancy. One little incident of bleeding. No problem. No real morning sickness. One time frying ground beef made me feel a bit nauseous. Bananas gave me heartburn. Everything else was good. I even got a pass on migraines for 40 weeks!!! Now that was fantabulous. My baby tried to dig its way out through my ribcage a couple or ten times but it was all good. I gave birth to the cutest baby boy ANYONE has ever seen. I’m sure of it, so there’s no point in arguing with me.
BoyGenius was born on a Monday morning and as soon as he was out I got a migraine. Coincidence? Probably not. But hey, they have the good drugs in the hospital so it didn’t last long. I stayed a couple of days and when we brought him home on Wednesday I immediately noticed that someone had stolen my garden obelisk that had my Christmas lights on it. Welcome home!
By Saturday of that same week I was a blubbering mess. BoyGenius wouldn’t stop crying, except when we got him all hopped up on gripe water. He latched on and nursed just fine but it didn’t seem to matter. I rocked back and forth, probably squeeezed him too hard, cried and cried and knew that I was the worst mother ever and didn’t have a clue what to do. After leaving a frantic message with the public health nurse looking for help, I finally sent HardWorker out to buy a $400 double-breasted breast pump. I pumped. I nursed. I rocked. Big deal. BoyGenius cried. I cried. Public health nurse came by on Monday, said he was hungry and hooked us up with a local breastfeeding clinic. Oma, BoyGenius and I went. HardWorker was back at work. BoyGenius nursed, drank 8 ounces of formula for dessert and slept like a baby. Apparently my milk hadn’t “come in” and once it had, there still wasn’t enough to sustain a growing boy. The nurses at the clinic rocked. They gave us formula, the whole tube contraption so he could get formula while nursing, nipples, syringes, advice, herbal remedies to boost milk production, and most of all peace of mind. BoyGenius was fine. We could all breathe again.
And so began my journey as a stay-at-home-mother. We continued visiting the breastfeeding clinic. We made some friends there. I continued breastfeeding and supplementing with formula. BoyGenius never had any nipple confusion, he really didn’t care where his milk was coming from as long as it was coming. This went on for 10 months. One day he wouldn’t lay on the couch to nurse, would only stand in front of me. The next day he bit me. He was done with the natural nipple. He continued with the bottle for about another year. I let him. Wanna make something of it?