My Million Dollar Baby Part 3


It’s worth noting that among all of this insanity, we were moving. We found a townhouse on a Saturday and then on Monday I was giving birth, Wednesday afternoon released me and we had a move in date of Friday the 25th.  My boyfriend had spent the better part of the last decade living like a nomad and had few possessions and no furniture.  I had split from my ex-husband 2 years prior 6 weeks after my dad and so moved in with my mom. I needed a place to regroup and she needed company without my dad.  So I have things in storage, but I left the big stuff, furniture and things with my ex.

My boyfriend and I had nothing really. The plan was to go to a scratch and dent furniture store near my mom’s house and buy everything we needed, put it into a moving truck, go to my storage unit and fill it the rest of the way, and then take it to our new place.  This was a fine plan until I had the baby, now it seemed like basically a nightmare. I had $1000 cash in my purse because if you paid cash rather than credit the store would haggle with you and I left it sitting somewhere in the store. I don’t know when, I just know that I realized it was missing. Thankfully someone turned it in to customer service, but I was a fucking wreck. I cried on an ottoman for a good 10 minutes.  We got most of what we needed though: a couch, recliner, tv stand, a mattress and box springs, and we even found a Pack n Play and a cat tree.

Then we set out to the U-Haul. Oh U-Haul…I hate you. I had called them and let them know I lost the key to my unit and they told me for a $50 fee they could cut it off, I figured that was fine, that was the cost of me being disorganized. Unfortunately when I got there they let me know that they couldn’t cut MY lock off because it is a disc lock. I would have to call a locksmith. It took that guy an hour and a half to show up and quote me $269.  I should have just paid it because my things have been in there since and I keep having to deal with their nightmare customer service and wanting to die every time I talk to them. Plus we’ve spent well over the $269. Meanwhile my boyfriend is teaching himself to pick locks in an attempt to get into the lock without paying a locksmith. I don’t have any more to say regarding this because it’s stupid and makes me mad.

While I was still in the hospital after giving birth they brought me a pump so I could work on getting my milk to come in as soon as possible. I got a few little drops the second day and I was pretty excited. I was pumping 20 minutes every 2 hours for 4 weeks before I quit. I was so discouraged. I was pumping, massaging, taking hot showers, eating oatmeal, eating breast milk cookies, taking fenugreek, and generally adhering to every bit of fact and old wive’s tale I could find trying to get my milk. I drank so much water I felt like I was going to drown. I’d go to the NICU with my lunch bag full of containers with 3-7 milliliters of breast milk and feel like the nurses were disappointed when they opened our rooms little refrigerator. “Just keep trying! It’s liquid gold,” they would all say, cheerfully. I know I’m projecting on them, they were friendly and encouraging. I just felt like my body was betraying me again. I couldn’t keep her in my body and now I couldn’t feed her. Finally I decided that they were giving her donor milk, supplementing with formula and I couldn’t do anymore. She could have a mom that was miserable trying to produce drops of milk, exhausted and self-recriminating or she could be a bottle fed baby with mom that was holding it together.

Breast milk cookies. They are actually really good. Does not contain tit juice.

I know that a lot of preemie moms are at the hospital 12 hours a day, every day.  They spend hours a day holding them. I joined a 2 micro preemie Facebook groups and reached out for support but I did not find it helpful.  So much of it was moms in a morbid “who has it worse” competition or moms with situations that went even beyond what we were going through. These women were there for hours, making posts about their exhaustion and how their marriages were falling apart. Pretty early in the process we decided that we weren’t going to do that. We went 5 days a week and we stayed 3-4 hours. I did 1-2 hours of skin to skin care each time. We both kind of felt like the less we futzed with her the more time she spent sleeping and growing. I don’t know if it’s accurate or not but we brought her home about 45 days sooner than they estimated when she was born.

At first this was fine, she was a little bit of a thing. It took probably 3 weeks to get her up to 2lbs and we celebrated hard when she finally did. After than she seemed to just flourish. I have to talk about her diapers though. Pampers is the only diaper brand to make diapers as as small as she needed. Even the smallest one was big on her at first. They had 3 preemie sizes, although I believe they’ve recently added on that the baby just lays on if they are too delicate to wear one.

The little one is half the size of a playing card.