Dread

I am upstairs. AB is downstairs with MIL. She is trying to put him to sleep. He is screaming -- the kind of scream where he's actually starting to go hoarse.

My heart is pounding, my breasts are tingling, and I just want to go down there and make everything right.

S doesn't want me to. This is supposed to be a dry run for tomorrow night, when the in-laws are keeping the boys so S & I can have an early anniversary date in the city.

I could not bear the thought of leaving the kids here with the in-laws while we were over an hour away, so we are getting two hotel rooms close to the restaurant where we have reservations. I think it's a 10-minute cab ride from the hotel to the restaurant. Much better, if we need to get back quickly, than a 1+ hour drive home.

But I am terrified. MIL seems even more inept with AB than she was with KB. I cannot figure out why. He is not difficult to put to sleep, although his mood does turn on a dime. He absolutely has to be soothed to sleep within 2 hours of waking up, or he screams bloody murder. MIL does not understand that and doesn't respect it.

A couple of nights ago, she completely ignored AB's sleepy signs (we had stepped out to pick up KB, to talk to his teacher, and to buy him some shoes). I had told her we should be back well before he needed to eat again, but at her insistence, I left a bottle just in case. Of course, when we walked in, she was giving him a bottle. She said he had started crying and she couldn't get him to stop. One glance at the clock said he was sleepy, not hungry.

I have horrible visions of her gorging him with 12 ounces of breastmilk tomorrow night while we are at dinner. I know she will keep him awake past his 2-hour window, and he will scream, and she will get all flustered that she can't put him to sleep, and she'll give him another bottle. Then she'll call me at the restaurant and tell me she's out of breastmilk and we need to come back.

Why did I ever let myself get talked into this date? My stomach is in knots just thinking about it.

Nursing is a full-time job!

I love that breastfeeding AB is going well. I do. I love that he is filling out and actually getting rolls on his thighs.

Sometimes as I watch him nursing, I hear him gulping and swallowing and marvel that I am making ACTUAL MILK! I'm feeding him! Me!

Other times I wonder who is sneaking into our house in the middle of the night and feeding this child. It boggles my mind that I am producing 100% of his nourishment.

Nursing sessions are still lasting forever. I know I should not complain. At least AB feeds about every 3 hours, not every 2 hours. And the last two nights have been lovely, with some 5+ hour stretches of sleep.

But I do feel that I am becoming one with the couch. I feel as if there is a baby on my boob just about all the time.

Tonight I took KB out to dinner after I fed AB. I wanted to spend some time with my sweet angel boy, just the two of us. I knew our relationship would be different once we had a second baby, but I wasn't prepared for how much I would miss him.

The view from here

AB just fed for an hour and a half (including a lot of falling asleep at the breast). Now he's in the bouncy seat while I contemplate eating something for lunch.

KB is at preschool.

S's parents have disappeared again. This time, they have gone off with his cousin to do a week of sightseeing in Northern California. But not the redwood forest; they saw that in 2002 and Heaven forbid they see the same thing twice.

Remind me again why we spent $2800 to fly them here to "help us"?

S is upstairs taking a nap. He said he would be up at 12:45. It's 1:30.

I'm on my 5th load of laundry in two days.

I am not happy.