Current mood: depressed

So at the doc today I found out Emma's weight. 14 lb 14 oz. Two ounces LIGHTER than her last weight a MONTH ago. You know, I could be wrong, but I thought that babies were supposed to get HEAVIER with time.

So if my struggle with breastfeeding over the past 7 months hasn't been evidence enough, the fact that she's actually LOSING weight tells me it's time to do something else. Which, let me tell ya, is heartbreaking. I thought it was WORKING, people. I thought my boobs WORKED, for chrissake. I thought my beautiful, happy, smiley baby was getting all she needed. She's been getting solid foods lately too - cereal, veggies, fruits, Cheerios, Gerber puffs - we even started yogurt a few weeks ago.

I don't know what to do at this point. I've worked my ass off trying to get this nursing thing to work for so long now that it would be pointless to quit, but I know that if I start supplementing it'll screw with my supply even more.

But honestly, I'm tired of worrying about it. I'm tired of taking 20 pills a day of vitamins, calcium, fenugreek and blessed thistle just to find out that I'm depriving my precious baby girl of what she needs. I'm tired of Scott thinking I stink because the fenugreek comes out your pores (it smells like licorice, which he apparently hates). I'm tired of the stupid nursing bras and restricted clothing choices. I'm tired of having to eat oatmeal every morning for breakfast to make sure I'm getting my protein (although I'm sure my cholesterol levels are better now). I'm tired of worrying that if I skip one feeding for a goddamned date night that my supply will drop and I'll have to add two pumping sessions a day for the next week to make up for it. I'm tired of pumping 3 times a day at work and not even getting enough milk for one (yeah, ONE) 4 ounce bottle. (Side note - everyone told me, and everything I read said, that you can't ever get out as much with a pump as the baby can get out. In other words, I shouldn't worry that I'm lucky if I pump an ounce and a half each session - baby's getting more than that. Riiiight.) Bottom line - I'm just fucking tired.

Will I keep doing it? Damn right I will. I'm not going to stop until my boobs decide otherwise, or I reach one year, whichever comes first. I just need to decide if I want to spend the next two weeks power-nursing - feeding her once every hour and hoping that works to increase my supply - or just say fuck it and start giving her a bottle after each feeding.

I'm leaning towards the fuck-it side of things.

I don't know. We'll see. I just want to do what's best for Emma, because obviously whatever I've been doing isn't. And I don't know what else to try anymore. And I'm tired of trying.