I woke up at 5:45 this morning to start working out at the gym. I'm having to go early in the morning so that Alex is at home with Francie before leaving for work. This was the first time I've left her for longer than 15 or so minutes, like for making a quick trip to the grocery store. The trial separation went surprisingly well. And I felt good about myself for getting in my first real workout in a long ass time. Plus, after I showered and fed the Bean, I crawled right back into bed with her a napped until 10:30ish. Delicious.
I used my new Medela In Style breast pump today. It's the first time I've expressed more than just a few drops (besides by hand in the shower to relieve engorgement). I didn't like it much, mostly just because I felt like a dairy cow. The machine plugs in to the wall and makes factory-like noises as it suctions my nipples into the little vacuum. "Ole Bess," Alex says. Also, it's far less efficient than breastfeeding. First of all, I have to do it when I'm not holding Francie and when she's not feeding herself (obviously). But also I have to use two hands to hold the nipple suckers in place for the entire time. No multitasking. In 20 minutes of pumping I produced nearly 2 oz. of milk from each boob. Supposedly this is the equivalent to one feeding.
Tonight we decided to let Alex try to feed her - Francie had her first bottle (of my previously expressed milk). My heart actually broke a little. I felt myself jealous of Alex, now being able to provide nourishment. Sure, she still needs me to produce the milk, and there're a plethora of other benefits to being at the breast. And although Alex was very excited to be able to feed her, and looked so cute doing so, I felt a bit superfluous, like my role as mama just got downgraded. And it reminded me that I have to go back to work in two short months and will miss several feedings, and just daily life in general.
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