If you're unsure who to vote for...

Cole's Platform:

Mandatory naps for all
Fair play
No more shots
Any corporation currently being bailed out with taxpayers' money due to questionable investment practices shall go without dessert until said money is paid back in full
No name calling
Vegetables shall be taken off the food pyramid
Mother's day should be observed on the first Sunday of every month

Happy Voting!

Confessions galore

Thanks so much for all the kinds words and congratulations, it means a lot to me. This summer was definitely one of growth. I can’t believe how big my son is. He is a little boy now. See?

But it wasn’t just growth for him. It was growth for me as well. I have a confession. In fact, I have two. They are the entire reason I started this blog and named it Pumproom Confessions. I never intended to tell friends or family about this blog. I just wanted an outlet to get some things off of my chest (no pun intended) in an anonymous environment. But then I realized it was a good way to share stories and photos, so I invited my friends and family, and I became a writing wimp. I didn’t want to be judged. Not by friends or family and not by those who stopped by the Pump Room regularly. I did that well enough by myself. So I stuck to safe topics and just mentioned the other things in passing.

Confession One
I had post partum depression, something which I didn’t get help for until my son was almost a year old. I thought it would go away on its own. I thought, for good reason, that it would go away when I stopped breast feeding / pumping. It didn’t. So I started seeing a specialist who has helped me work through it. My PPD manifested in a much milder manner than some, thank goodness, but one that created a lot of issues for me. While I was able to function and able to tenderly care for and love my son, I felt no joy after his birth. It was like I was swallowed up. Oh, I was glad / proud of my son and loved sharing stories, but I always felt like somehow I was going through the motions. I never felt happy, even though I was aware that I should. I never felt unhappy either. But I knew I was missing something and that something was very wrong.

Blogging was a savior for me. It allowed me to relive moments and memories. It was therapeutic for me. It made me feel normal, whereas I spent a lot of time in my everyday life wondering WTF is wrong with me? So thank you for being part of this. And if you are a new mom and hurting, please see someone. It helps. I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I just can’t tell you the joy I get now out of family life and my son and my pregnancy. I’m back to “me” again.

Confession Two
My second confession is I experienced D-MER (dysphoric milk ejection reflex). And a rather bad case of it, at that. Breastfeeding and pumping were not good experiences for me. About 50% of the time I felt a surge of rage (and I mean RAGE) when I breastfed. The other 50% of the time, I would feel anything from mild irritation to pretty darn angry. I can’t even express to you how complicated the feelings are when you do something that is suppose to be so good and it goes so wrong. Of course, when I got the real bad feelings, I stopped the nursing session immediately and got a bottle of expressed milk or a formula/milk combo. I found ways that made it easier.

I was in contact with my lactation consultant and it baffled her. I even emailed my local LLL director (I was to embarrassed to call or go to a meeting). She did some research and came up with nothing. Nobody ever heard of this reaction. I felt broken. I was extremely hard on myself for this, though I obviously couldn’t help it. I should have switched to formula only, but I didn’t. I was determined to a fault, and I think that part of being depressed was to force myself to do something that so obviously wasn’t working. Maybe I even felt as though I deserved it, or that it was the only thing I could offer my child, though I never consciously thought those things.

At 10 months my supply plummeted and I shelved the pump. I had quit breastfeeding at six months in part because my son teethed so early and wasn’t grasping the concept of “No Biting!!” but also because I was exhausted from dealing with negative feelings while breast feeding and then dealing with the reality of experiencing those feelings in the first place. Pumping yielding the same reaction, but I wasn’t holding my son. It made a difference.

The first time I went to see the women’s specialist, she directed me to D-MER.org. Though I was no longer breastfeeding/pumping, I cried. I was so relieved that I wasn’t alone and that there was a reason for what I felt. It wasn’t just me.

Am I going to breastfeed this time? (Hey, did ya know I’m pregnant??) I am going to try. I have nothing to lose. I’ve got some tips from D-MER to go on. I have support. If those feelings come back though, I will stop immediately. I am committing to not committing to it. Hehe.

Again, blogging has helped me greatly. I was able to highlight the look-back-and-laugh side of pumping and the daily supply obsession that women go through. But the whole confession aspect of this blog was lost. I wanted to write about what I felt daily because if ANYONE else felt like this, I wanted them to know that they weren’t alone and didn’t have to suffer and hold all of their feelings inside. Since I’m no medical expert, I’m glad to be able to point to a Web site run by a lactation consultant who also experienced D-MER.

Did you read all the way to the end??!! You win the booby prize. :-) ahhhhhhhhhhh… the boob puns never get old.

But seriously? THANK YOU.

E-mail me anytime. anne[dot]pumproom[at]gmail[dot]com
AFF: I didn’t get your email! Stupid, Yahoo. I get so much in my spam folder that I stopped going through it. I imagine you ended up in the spam folder. :(

It’s been too long…

I’m back. I took an unexpected summer hiatus, but don’t worry, everything is fine! In fact, there is nothing wrong that 9 months won’t cure! :-)

Actually, to be more precise, about 5 months. I’m almost 20 weeks pregnant with another boy!

Let me tell you, the first trimester kicked my butt! I’ve never been so sick. I only threw up a few times, but, man, I was constantly nauseated and dizzy and super tired. Emotionally, I was spent. I think that looking after a 16 month old and working while dealing with all-day sickness and fatigue just got to me. Looking at the computer screen made me ill, thinking made me ill. I just couldn’t bring myself to be on the computer except to work (and obsessively read pregnancy message boards).

The good news is that I feel SO much better. Around 16-17 weeks, all my symptoms vanished, except my growing belly and ass, of course.

The Baby is doing great. He’s a walking/running/climbing fool. Poor guy doesn’t know what is about to hit his little world. I kinda feel bad.

Have a great 3-day weekend, if you're celebrating Labor Day!

Holding On

“He’ll get used to it.”
My heart breaks to think he would feel
left out or behind.

I hold him closer
before bed, kiss his soft hair.
It’s just us, for now.

Have a great 3-day weekend, if you're celebrating Labor Day!

I’m back from the beach

As much as I’d like to say that I’m tanned, well-rested and recharged, I am not. I’m pooped. I need the clichéd vacation from my vacation.

It was our first vacation with The Baby, who is just shy of 15 months old. We drove from central PA all the way to Savannah, GA, more specifically, Tybee Island. This was a great little beach community. The water was so warm it was like taking a bath, dolphins could be spotted off the coast (not by me, of course!), and the island was calm and family friendly. Beautiful Savannah was just 20 minutes away. Our friends Angel and Scott were just 15 minutes away. Perfect, right?

We met my husband’s sisters and their families in a kick-ass condo that fit six adults and three children without feeling cramped. The appliances were stainless, the counters were granite, the floors were tiled, our bed was HUGE. Our equally HUGE balcony overlooked the pool and spa, which, of course, were tiled in slate and altogether very spiffy. The beach was about one hundred feet out the front door. Perfect, right?

Our biggest fear before vacation was the drive. What the heck was The Baby going to do for 14 hours? Scream and cry, we feared. I mean, surely he wouldn’t sleep the whole time. Luckily, he did sleep most of the trip on the way there (we left at midnight, so that was the plan). We bought a portable DVD player for his awake time. Our son, who never watches TV, was forced to watch the two Baby Beethoven DVDs that we have on repeat. For what it’s worth, he prefers Mozart to Beethoven, hands down. Anyway, the actual trip was just fine.

I’m not saying there wasn’t pleasant times in our vacation. Watching The Baby run like a fool into the ocean was priceless (the.kid.is.fearless), watching daddy and baby swimming in the pool melted my heart. Seeing The Baby get to know his cousins was equally heart warming. Watching my son and my friend Angel’s son (2 weeks apart in age) consume sand together was very sweet in a get-that-out-of-your-mouth kind of way. Having the fam watch our son so we could have a night out with our friends was awesome.

But it was all a little much for The Baby. He stopped eating anything but cereal, bananas and crackers on day two. He stopped sleeping well on day three. He’d wake up anywhere from 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. and he would stay up for hours. Not just up, but up and crying. He wouldn’t lay between us in bed, he didn’t want to play, he writhed in our arms. Just when you thought he was asleep and put him down, you’d be back at square one. At one point, we took The Baby for a walk at 4 a.m. We didn’t know what else to do with him. On an up note, we saw a drunk guy trying to ride a bike. That was sorta funny.

The Baby’s attitude also changed. He started hitting and biting me and throwing things. He was crabby 80% of the time. He just seemed very frustrated and between the lack of sleep on all of our parts and our frustration and worry, we decided to leave early. The thought of another fight to get him to eat or another sleepless night literally had me in tears.

He’s been sleeping and eating just fine since we've been home. I guess he was just out of his element. Oh, did I mention I got sick on the way home? Like, pukey sick? Then when I got home, I got a cold. Awesome!

Random Photos from Tybee and Savannah.

On vacation

I'm in Savannah, GA, ya'll! See you next week!

Three Year Anniversary

Dear Husband,

Thank you
for three years,
1096 days,
and countless memories.

Most of all,
thank you for being exactly who you are.

I love you.

Hersheypark… indifferent

I still remember my favorite ride at Hersheypark when I was a little girl. It was called The Whip (I called it “the snapper-backer”), because it was an oval track that whipped you around the corners. It no longer exists so it was either A. lame or B. a liability. I’m going with B. I hit my head on the side of the car all the time, but it was such fun!

Saturday was a big day for us. It was The Baby’s first trip to Hersheypark. We were very excited. My husband even printed out a list of all the Hershey Miniature (under 36” tall) rides. Unfortunately, we only got on two of them: Express Train and Ladybug. The Baby’s expression didn’t change once through either ride. It could best be described as chilly indifference—even when his dad and two kind strangers were doing everything in their power to get him to smile… he was stony. See below. Also, I thought my husband was going to hurl on the Ladybug, which was sort of funny. :-)






Hersheypark as an adult with a toddler is a completely different experience.

Instead of riding this:

We rode this:

Hey, the monorail had stroller parking and no line! We were very excited. Very. *hanging head in shame* Then we walked through the zoo. Nobody walks through the zoo if they only have a one-day pass, unless their parents make them. Or unless they are the parents of a ride-rejecting toddler. Actually, the zoo was pretty neat. It put The Baby right to sleep. Bonus.

Of course, he would not lay back in his stroller, so he nodded off / jerked awake / nodded off while my husband and I tried to locate the lunch pavilion. This took a billion years since apparently neither one of us can read a map. The frustration of being hungry, hot AND lost was alleviated a bit by all the awwwww-him’s-so-sleepy looks and coos that The Baby earned while we walked in circles.

After lunch, we went to the water park. The Baby LOVES pools and splashing in water. We were pretty psyched. I agreed to stroller sit, while my husband and son stood in line to get into one of the kiddie splash and play areas. Wouldn’t you know it, 15 minutes later, while they were still in line, the water attractions were closed due to the possibility of storms. But all was not lost. My husband said that The Baby did get to splash in a small puddle in line and even got down on his hands and knees and tried to take a lick. All I have to say is that I hope that puddle was water.

All in all, it was a good day. It was hosted by my husband’s company, so we didn’t have to pay. Woot! Would I have paid $110 (14 month olds aren’t charged for admission) for the three of us to park and get into the park for four hours? No. Not when The Baby had just as much fun when we got home jumping through the sprinkler with daddy.

Even if The Baby doesn't remember a thing, it was still a day of memories for us.