Got Milk?

Benjamin had his two-week check-up on Monday (having a preemie is still kind of funny—he'll have his two-month appointment on August 9th which is just two weeks after his two-week appointment; we have appointments for both his actual and adjusted age). He was a surprisingly large 7 lbs. 14.5 oz. when we weighed him. The doctor said his weight gain was phenomenal—he's gained three pounds in the past eight weeks.


This is not the first time we've shocked a doctor with our ability to pack on the pounds. Miriam shocked her pediatrician, too. He credited my milk for her miraculous weight gain. 


I make a lot of milk. Have I mentioned that lately?


I'm a certified milk donor and have already shipped off two huge crates of frozen milk, totaling 100 lbs. 






That's not counting the milk Benjamin's consumed, nor the milk I'll be donating to my friend's adopted baby, nor the milk still waiting in my mom's freezer.

Both of my girls breastfed 100% of the time. Benjamin obviously hasn't. He spent the first chunk of his life being fed through an NG tube and when he was strong enough he started taking a bottle in the middle of the night. When we came home we dropped the bottle feeding because life was too stressful to figure out bottles (remember the stomach flu?). Bottles are way more work than breastfeeding, in my opinion.

The other night, though, I had to go out driving (because I'm a driver. I drive. It's true—my father-in-law is giving me driving lessons. Why, yes, I'm 27.) and it just happened that Benjamin woke up starving (he almost always does). I had left some milk in the fridge for him, just in case, so Andrew warmed it up for him and Rachel, who has been dying to feed this baby a bottle since he was born, got to feed Benjamin.

They were both pretty happy about it. 

Benjamin will remain a mostly-breastfed baby, though, because I'm simply too lazy for bottles. 

And because I love nursing my babies. That might put me in a minority, but it's true. 

Except for maybe at 4 o'clock in the morning.