The weekend was so fun, I was so incredibly happy and felt so grateful. I should have known it would follow by a Satan-stricken day the day after. Sunday I woke up on the wrong side of bed, not exactly crabby but feeling worthless, ugly, and of course reminded of my post baby weight. Getting ready for church is not always fun when nothing fits how you would like it to, or remember anyway. It was also sad to me that we had to miss being in our worship team the last two sundays. It's just too hard. I napped though for an hour or so after lunch and showered, too...and I felt like a new person! 
Yesterday was clearly a big day. This time we did not bring kids - which was a relief. I remember undressing Ella to get weighed thinking..."this is it, this is the big weigh in". We set her down, and voila, 9 pounds 15 oz. A whole pound. In my mind I thought she gained for sure, but didn't expect a whole pound! What a praise. I mostly feared cystic fibrosis, and even the thought of a metabolic disorder was scary. I was so discouraged last week. I began having thoughts of my milk supply and how it might not be sufficient for her. I began drinking less water and really not caring much about it. It was nice to go to a doctor that gave me a pep talk about how water is extremely important and encouraged me to keep going. I tried nursing her yesterday. I felt her hard suck, but it was going no where. I think if I want to make it work i need to work one-on-one with a Lactation consultant. I am not too sad anymore but I want to remember giving it my all before I close the door on it. It just seems so much work to try and nurse, pump after, and then feed her a bottle. That is twice what I am doing now... I'll have to make a decision. I think even if I could nurse her morning and night, that would be so nice. I hate, HATE, having to pump all the time, but hoping after a couple months it will get better.Well, that's all for now. My pumping session is done and I better get lunch started!
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