Do You Like Milking Your Body?

When your 4 year old walks into your bedroom while you're tethered to a breast pump, gives you a disgusted look, and says with perfect sarcasm, "You like milking your body?" you realize where you stand on breastfeeding.

The 4th week was a bitch. I expected Elodie to go through a growth spurt and cluster feed. I expected that 24-48 hours would be rough until my supply jumped into gear. What I didn't expect? An entire week of 45 minute marathon sucking sessions every hour and a half.

(Break that down, and I had 40 minutes Suckubus Free. No...actually, I had 5 minutes Suckubus Free because after feeding I had to burp, rock, and pray for her to sleep and she'd wake up 5 minutes after I put her down. You know what you can do in 5 minutes? JACK SHIT.)

((Yes, I just referred to my child as a Suckubus. That's what a whole week of non-stop nursing and ZERO SLEEP will do.))

During that week, Elodie fussed constantly. If she was awake she was jamming her fists in her mouth and crying and never satisfied with anything. I was Googling things like colic and silent reflux, wondering what was wrong with my kid. And? I was so exhausted the words on the computer screen jumped around and I felt a little manic.

So I gave her a bottle of formula. By the end of that bottle I had a different baby: calm, peaceful, wide-eyed, quietly alert. No screaming. No fist jamming. She was finally full.

I know lactation consultants swear very few people really have low supply issues, and that if your baby is wetting and dirtying diapers than you have enough milk. I even found an article about why a breastfed baby will suck down a bottle of formula when she isn't really hungry.

Know what? I don't care. I refuse to starve my baby because Breastfeeding! Huzzah! I'm more concerned with feeding her than earning my "I'm a Good Mom because I'M A SUPERSTAR MILKER!" SUV-rear-window-decal.

Know what else? I hate breastfeeding. I'll straight up admit it, internets! It was something I had to grit my teeth and just survive: like a hardcore diet or training for a half marathon.

I did not enjoy it--I'm glad it's over--and I'm glad I'll never have to do it again.

The End.

Edited to add: I am currently pumping to slowly wean my supply down, and I'm mixing pumped milk with formula. Even engorged and double pumping with an electric pump, I can barely get 2 ounces at a time.

Postpartum Week 3: Will the Real Jaci Please Stand Up?

Postpartum Week: 3
Total Weight Loss: 21 (gained 3 pounds back! eek!)

No picture this week. The batteries in the camera are dead and I'm too tired to find new ones. Instead I'll just tell you that I can button my fat jeans. Score! Buh-bye maternity pants!

After a day of horrific cluster feeding every hour, I woke up the next morning to a 4 pound weight gain. I don't know if the two events are related, but it sounds better than "I ate a Snickers."

Turns out breastfeeding isn't the All You Can Eat Buffet Pass it was over the last two weeks and now I'm going to have to watch what I eat.

Elodie may or may not have colic. I can't decide because she isn't screaming as bad as Elizabeth did--and to call normal fussiness "colic" is an insult to every parent who has a real colicky baby.

I do know that the crying drove me to furiously stress eat two king size candy bars in two minutes. Then the thought that maybe I should go purge before the chocolate caused even more fussiness? actually crossed my mind and I finally woke up from New Mom Insanity.

Screw it. I'm drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. I'll have an iced tea if I want it. Spicy food? Why not? She's going to cry anyway! Beating myself up over every little bite of my diet and taking on loads of false mommy guilt isn't going to help anyone--in fact, it will only make me stressed out and resentful.

I can't wait to reach the 6 week mark. According to the literature, breastfeeding will ease up then and I can be more than Elsie the Sleep Deprived Milking Cow.

SAHM: The First Day

Kevin went back to work today. So, obviously, Elodie sensed a disturbance in the Force and stayed up most of the night screaming. It wasn't gas pains...it wasn't colic...it was arm flailing and anger.

I'm running on various chunks of sleep that I think total 5 hours. It's 11 am and my first day alone at home with two kids is already marked as fail. The only time Elodie isn't screaming is a.) nursing, or b.) passed out from exhaustion.

Also? Happiest Baby on the Block? You suck. Swaddling and shushing and giggling her head gently like jello does NOTHING other than piss her off. I would take a picture of her face while wrapped in her straight jacket--I mean, blanket--but baby scowls are just sad.

Even more sad? My reaction to the nerve-splitting screams. I'm no Madonna, people. When Elodie cranks up, I lose the .001% of patience I have and start dropping F bombs. And where is the "sense of peace" that's supposed to wash over me while breastfeeding?!? The Mommy Fairy must have skipped that bit of pixie dust. Instead of relaxing and cuddling my baby, I'm watching the clock and fighting back the urge to pry her off me.

*deep breath*

I can do this. Only 3 more weeks, and I'll have a different baby who smiles and interacts and does more than just flail and scream and eat every 2 hours. Maybe by then I can even have coffee again?

Postpartum Week 2

Postpartum Week: 2
Total Weight Loss: 24 pounds
Diet/Exercise: Still trying to get back on my feet.

6 pounds away from pre-pregnancy weight!

The weight is falling off simply from breastfeeding. I'm eating normal foods (and not skipping desert) then stepping on the scale watching 1-2 pounds disappear each day. The only downside? I have no energy. I'm popping vitamins and still feel like the life has been sucked out of me.

I wish I could have coffee, but when I drank half a cup Elodie screamed and fussed the rest of the day. She even fusses with too much iced tea. It doesn't make sense--I lived on gallons of iced tea while I was pregnant!

Fast weight loss...sleep deprivation...still healing...and no caffeine? Ugh. Craziness.

I packed away the maternity clothes! Most normal clothes fit, but my old jeans don't even come close to closing. Bring on the Bella Band! By 6 weeks the big U should be back to it's normal size and my pants will actually...you know...button.

Thoughts 104 Feedings Later

Most of my breastfeeding issues have cleared up! The pain is gone. I'm slathering on lanolin faithfully. I've mastered the night-time feedings with the side-lying position. And Elodie gets in and out within 20 minutes--no more dorking around with latches.

Will I stick it out? Mmmmm...I don't know. There are pros and cons to this. (Cons?!? *gasp* Don't let the Nursing Nazi's hear you!!!)

PROS

- Health benefits for baby (duh)

I think it's holding off colic. *fingers crossed*

- Weight loss for me (triple bonus points)

- Easy night feedings

- Already invested money in bras and nursing stuff

From here on out it will be free--but don't let anyone tell you "Breastfeeding is free!" It's NOT free! It's cheaper than formula, yes, but you still have to investing in nursing supplies! I have $180 wrapped up in this, and it would have been a lot more if my friend hadn't given me her electric breast pump.


CONS

- Stuck with baby

So...a couple days ago, Kevin took Elizabeth for the afternoon and ran errands. While he was gone, it suddenly hit me that I can't leave the baby. I'm exclusively breastfeeding--I can't even be gone for an hour! What if she decides to cluster feed?

Until I've pumped a spare milk supply and successfully introduced the bottle, I'm stuck. I realized tonight that it's almost been 2 weeks with no break. Trust me...I'm feeling it.

- Nursing in public

Nursing at home? How sweet! How beautiful! Nursing in public? Ugh.

My mom made a cover for me (THANK YOU MOM!) so I'm not smothering Elodie under a blanket--or exposing myself. But I'm so tense that we don't have good nursing sessions. Where am I going to feed her? Car? Restroom? Dressing room? On a bench where anyone can stare at me? It stresses me out!

Formula definitely has the advantage for public feeding. And yes, I know I could make bottles of breast milk and take them along--but doesn't that defeat the whole "Easy! No lugging of bottles!" pro-breastfeeding point?

- Feeling "All" or "Nothing"

Maybe I've read too many books, but I have it in my head that once formula is introduced breastfeeding is done. The milk supply dries up...baby refuses to go back to boob...and Mom is nothing but a slave to the Evil Formula Company.

When I hit a bad day, I feel like I have to make a permanent decision about The Future of Feedings right then and there. There's no back-up plan or break (see Con #1). It's either make each feeding or FAIL.

Hopefully, creating my horde of pumped milk will make me relax...but that leads me to the next con...

- Pumping "extra" is hard work

I'm supposed to pump after feeding--but again, what if she cluster feeds? I don't want to pump it out only to have her wake up fist eating 40 minutes later. So I only pump for about 10 minutes and turn it off.

Tonight I got 1/4 of an ounce. Wow.


Anyway. I made it through the first few hell weeks, and I'm just now enjoying pain-free feedings. It's too soon to make any long term decisions.

I'll check back in at 6 weeks.

Life Right Now Is...

Still in a nightgown at 5 pm...

No makeup...

Glasses...

Are my teeth brushed?

Constant nursing...

And rocking...

No sleep...

It's worth it.

How Did You Come Up With That Name?

I didn't make it up. It's a real name. I swear!

I found Elodie's name in a baby name book. It's pronounced El-oh-dee (like Melody, but without the M) and it's a French name meaning wealth. I guess it's pretty popular in France...it was the French "Jennifer" of the 80's. The baby book warned that the name hasn't crossed the ocean yet and is unknown in the US.

I loved it the first time I said it out loud. (It's almost musical.) Everyone else? Not so much.

Around month 8 Kevin finally warmed up to it enough to consider it as a real name and not just Jaci's crazy pregnant hormones talkin' smack. He wanted a Rachael.

Gag.

When I told my Mom, she actually said, "Ewww! If you're going to do that, just name her Melody."

Niiiice. This from the woman who called me "Jock-leeeeeene" with an exaggerated French accent all snooty and pretentious-like.

My theory? Hatred for my daughter's name is a generational thing. People over 40 think it's godawful and I'm a stupid moron. Under 40's think it's beautiful and love it. And? They get it right away--I don't have to keep repeating it over and over and over again while they try to wrap their tongue around it.

I'm shuddering at the thought of coaching my 85 year old Grandma through it... Ell-what? Huh? *evil stink eye*

I don't think I'm burdening my daughter to a lifetime of name-correcting. She'll be going to school with a sea of Emily's, Emma's, Ella's, Olivia's, Ava's...Elodie fits in with all the other uber popular vowel names but will stand out on it's own. At least, she won't be doomed to a school life as "Elodie...no, not THAT Elodie. Elodie D.!"

I was the only "Jaci" until high school when there was finally another "Jackie". (No, I have never met another "Jaci".) I loved that I was the only one! The only downside? Try fitting "Jacqueline Nicole" on a check. It doesn't work.

And yes, I gave Elodie my middle name. You're...so vain. You probably think this song is about you...

Someone asked if I asked Aunt Becky about my name choice--yes, I did! I wanted some brutally honest opinions, and where else can you get 'em but online? Bloggers be some nasty bitches--especially if they can do it anonymously. "Ask Aunt Becky" was my litmus test. If someone said it in the comments, then someone will say it at PTA...or in the teacher's lounge...or behind my back.

I think I'll screw with people when they ask where I got that name. How about "I found it on an old tombstone and loved it?" Then I'll just stare at them without blinking.

Postpartum Week 1: That's All Breastfeeding!

I'm going to continue with the Pregnancy Series and move on to the postpartum period. Pregnant belly pics are fun, but watching someone recover is even more interesting.

So here we go! I'm not promising miracles (like Heidi Klum or Giselle, those biatches) but hopefully I'll continue to shrink back down and not...well...swell back up. With fat. And stress eating. And peanut butter cups.

Postpartum Week: 1
Weight Loss: 15 pounds! HALF MY PREGNANCY WEIGHT GONE!!!
Diet/Exercise: None. Still recovering.

In one week I went from this:
To this:
I am totally shocked. My stomach is so flat! Er...comparatively anyway. I know I still have a ways to go in my fab-U-lous white nursing top (that I wear 24/7).

This? Is ALL breastfeeding. It has nothing to do with me, trust me! I've been eating things like apple pie, chocolate cake, and these wonderfully delicious chocolate chip cookie/brownie/cakie things.

And 15 pounds?!? Half my preggers weight?!? I can't believe it. What a difference from my first pregnancy (and formula feeding recovery). I'm a complete believer in the "Breastfeeding Benefits Mom" propaganda.

If this keeps up, I'm going to turn into a Nursing Nazi busting into Weight Watchers meetings screaming, "Don't diet! GET PREGNANT! Your baby becomes a liposuction machine!"

And--this is kinda gross but whatever, I'll share--the bleeding is so much lighter. Much lighter.

I can't wait until I can go for a walk and not feel like I'm going to pass out. Right now, going up and down the steps is pushing it. Which reminds me, I need to take my iron pills...

I Crashed Last Night. Hard.

Thank you so much for all your advice and support. I've read through each and every comment a few times today, chanting a mantra of "It gets better...it gets better...it gets better...".

Yesterday was Elodie's first doctor's appointment--and first trip out of the house for both of us. And when your baby is breastfeeding anywhere between 40 minutes to 4 hours, a simple trip across town is stressful. What if she wants to eat? Where am I going to feed her?

Elodie weighs 7.6, has plenty of wet and poopy diapers, and looks good. (Whew! I'm not starving her!)

The trip wiped her out and threw off our whole system. She slept hard, woke often to nurse, and we had our biggest number of nursing sessions EVER. So I was really, really sore. And? Like an idiot, I acted like I was healed and over did it. By midnight, I was exhausted and in no mood for more painful marathon sucking sessions.

Naturally, that's when Elodie decided to stay up all night to suckle--and by "suckle" I mean just dork around with my nipples biting and chewing and sucking in and spiting out until I shoved her at Kevin and said, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! I'M DONE!"

He sat in the rocking chair with the baby furiously jamming her fists in her mouth and grunting, while I sat in bed practically crying, venting about how I just can't feed her another time...I'm too sore and she just plays around...I can't do it...

Then I'd say, "Give her to me," and try to nurse one more time, biting my lips and tensing up through the pain. I'd make it through maybe 10 minutes, and then I'd have to break her crappy latch (which, sadly, was the best of 100's of crappy latches she offered me) and hand her back to Kevin--drowsy, but not asleep--and the whole cycle would start again.

By 3 am, I crashed. I broke down. I finally said it (and meant it): "JUST GIVE HER SOME FORMULA."

Kevin cracked open one of the free hospital bottles and gave it to her, while I sat in bed and felt like I just ordered him to give her arsenic. (Seriously, Jaci? You fed Elizabeth nothing but formula, you sleep deprived moron!) She took a few gulps and then refused it.

FAIL.

After another half hour of angry fist eating, I tried out the side lying position and she finally--FINALLY--fell asleep at 4 am.

I'm still exclusively breastfeeding (no formula, no pumped bottles, no pacifier) but each feeding is a huge struggle. I'm committed to two more weeks before I allow myself to quit. Until then, I'm gritting my teeth, curling my toes, and giving it all I've got.

I love how all the breastfeeding literature screams, "It's easy! It's natural! It doesn't hurt! (If you're doing it right...)" but every woman who's breastfed says, "The first few weeks are pure hell no matter what you do." Why isn't that in the hospital pamphlet? Along with tips on how to help it? Instead I feel like I was handed a bunch of useless propaganda.

Tomorrow, I'm starting a new game plan. I'm going to start pumping and slowly create a store of milk in the fridge, so when another night like last night hits, I can hand Kevin a bottle of pumped milk and say, "Have fun with that." I'm also throwing out the anal retentive feeding schedule and will feed when Elodie wants to eat.

Here's hoping tomorrow is a turn around the corner...

Need Breastfeeding Help! NOW!!!

I'm totally sleep deprived, so forgive me if I don't make sense. Also? Here's a cute picture for no real reason. You're welcome.

I'm breastfeeding. And? By the time I hit the 10th feeding of the day at about...oh, 3 a.m...I wake up ready to scream:

"Gawd! Just give her some formula and leave me alone!!!"

The first few days were hard. I was feeding a tiny newborn invisible colostrum in no measurable amounts whatsoever and changing dry diapers in horror. Is she starving? Doesn't her cry sound weak? Is she too dehydrated to wake up? AM I KILLING THIS BABY? After the diapers started to get dirty and I started to relax (a little) my boobs flared up and engorged, causing my nipples to go flat and Elodie couldn't get a good latch for 2 days.

Now, my milk is in and the engorgement is going down, but those bad latches have left me so sore and miserable I have to grit my teeth to get through her marathon nursing sessions. And every time she first grabs on, I wince and yell in pain.

Lovely bonding, huh?

Elodie is a great sleeper--which apparently, is a death wish in the world of breastfeeding. I'm supposed to wake her up every 3 hours, but guess what? SHE DOESN'T WANT TO WAKE UP. Other times, she's awake and demanding food every hour, and I'm pouting in the rocking chair moaning, "But I just fed her 40 minutes ago! I hate this!"

So...what do I need help with?

I need help "staying the course".

I don't need to re-read the list of benefits and scientific studies on breastfeeding. Because, frankly? At the 4 am feeding, knowing that all this nipple pain and non-stop feeding is going to boost her IQ by 3 points isn't powerful enough to stop me from mixing up the Enfamil. I need some real motivation!

If you're a BF'er, what got you through these first few weeks? Is there a light at the end of the tunnel, or am I going to be chained to the rocking chair with a Bobby permanently attached to me until I give up?

After 4 Hours and 3 Pushes...

Birth Story!!!

(Okay, I know Birth Stories are totally lame and boring and everyone groans inwardly when a woman says, "I went into labor at..." Second runner up? People who come up to you and say, "I had the weirdest dream last night...")

I'll keep this short.

Turns out the induction drama was totally pointless, because just minutes after replying to a blog comment...

*Insert Jeff Foxworthy voice saying "You know you're a Mommy Blogger when..."*

My water broke.

I had cramps earlier in the evening, but it was just like my normal false labor bull shit. They weren't painful or regular enough to time, so I was not expecting my water to just explode for no reason.

I walked into the hospital at 10 p.m. gushing fluid but with no more pain than period cramps. The nurse didn't check to see how far dilated I was (I guess messing around up in there after the water breaks ups the risk of infection) but with the way I was feeling I thought we were in for a long night.

With all that--uh, leakage--I couldn't really walk the halls, and the last thing I wanted to do was lay in bed hooked up to monitors... Then my lovely nurse suggested I try out the jacuzzi tub.

Ooooooh!

We all remember my pathetic claw foot tub, right?

I was all over the jacuzzi idea! And, since I have to pay $150 per night and 10% of the bill, I sloshed all over that tub like I was at a hotel. I even asked for some trash mags like Star! or US Weekly to take in with me. It was awesome.

I floated around in there for about 40 minutes waiting for a bad contraction to hit so I could order an epidural and spend the rest of my night hooked up in numb bliss. When they finally started, I got out and found out I was at a 6.

Then all hell broke loose.

Out of the water, laying flat on my back with those stupid monitors pinning me in one spot, the contractions felt 100 times worse. I became "That Girl"--the one moaning and groaning and scaring the shit out of the other women.

The epidural came and my contractions were coming at about--oh, 40 SECONDS APART--and I had to sit up, shut up, and not move so he didn't paralyze me with the needles jamming into my spinal cord. He was really fast and got in and out within 10 minutes...

...just long enough for me to hit 10 with the head RIGHT THERE.

Everyone in the room looked at me with a combination of "oh shit" and pity on their faces. The epidural didn't have enough time to work, so the anesthesiologist gave me a double dose of some cold juice directly into my spine and said, "I'm so sorry. I hope that does something for you."

(Words you never want to hear in the delivery room.)

When Dr. Loompa showed up at 1:20 a.m. with crazy hair and a purple dress shirt I can picture him grabbing totally at random from his closet, I was numb enough. With only three half-assed pushes, Elodie was here!

Total Labor Time: 4 hours
Pushes: 3
Tears: 1 smallElodie Nicole
Elizabeth meeting Elodie the next morning

Elodie Nicole

5-5-10

1:36 a.m.

7 pounds 14 oz


She's perfect.

So. I'm Still Pregnant. And Googling "Labor Induction".

I spent some time researching "stripping membranes" and "labor induction" and can I just say that I am so sick of reading 1,001 ignorant opinions and viewpoints women have on childbirth?

Wait, let me rephrase that--I'm sick of reading, "Anyone who doesn't have 100% natural labor, refuse all medical intervention, and then breastfeed no matter what SHOULD NEVER HAVE CHILDREN!!!!"

I'm also thanking God that I'm not an OBGYN, because I wouldn't last a year before I ended up slapping some stupid woman with her phone-book-thick birth plan. I'm all for going into labor informed about the process and knowing the pros and cons of various medications and interventions, but there comes a point where you stop being a concerned patient and turn into a douche.

What I find hilarious is that there are so many lines drawn in the sand over labor induction. You have the "Pro Meds" who are okay with inductions and pick and choose a la cart: some women don't want Pitocin (I can sympathize)...some don't want to be induced until week 42...some will only try stripping membranes...

Then you have the "Naturals". A few will let their mid-wives strip their membranes as a last resort, but most of them want no intervention what-so-ever.

Well...no intervention other than herbs, teas, enemas, etc.

Which begs the question: Why is it okay to chug castor oil but refuse Cervidil? They are both "medications". One just came from the dusty bottom shelf of CVS while the other is administered safely by an entire hospital staff. Just because a medicine has been around for over 100 years that doesn't make it "natural"--that qualifies as an antique!

I don't understand why labor is such a hot button issue for women. Why does anyone care how I push the baby out? (Or don't, if I have a C-section.) If someone wants to get all hot and bothered about her own experience, fine! Insist on all kinds of crazy stuff and emerge from L&D with a Purple Heart for Non-Medicated Bravery! Good for you! I don't care.

But when you start bad mouthing other moms for having a different labor than you...well, then you're just an asshat. And a bully. And a total loser for making another woman feel "less than" as a mother.

(Which, apparently, is totally natural for all women to do. Online and anonymously, of course.)

10 Home Inductions to Cross Off My List

1. Walking

My stomach gets rock hard, I start to feel uncomfortable, my hips and thighs begin to burn and lock up...and maybe, just maybe, I'll spend the rest of the night feeling crampy. But bringing on labor? Nope.

Also...for any other preggos out there...if you start feeling cramps or contractions, don't be so quick to walk laps around your neighborhood to see if it's real or "speed it up". If it's real labor, nothing is going to stop it. You're better off laying down with your feet up and a big glass of water. 'Cause trust me, wasting 4 hours thinking you're in labor while walking and getting all excited only to have it peter out when you lay down sucks hard.

2. Bouncing on an exercise ball

This does nothing, but it's fun to roll around on. I'm sure it works better for postpartum sit-ups. Or at least, it better. I spent $20 on that stupid thing!

3. Spicy food

Again, nothing. Besides, if this one were true, wouldn't it make sense that women in Latin cultures would NEVER be overdue?!?

4. Pineapple

I ate 2 cans of it. Maybe it has to be fresh or it won't work? Oh, well. I didn't feel like blowing $4.99 on a fresh pineapple to find out...especially when the nectarines looked so much better and don't need to be hacked at for 10 minutes with my biggest butcher knife.

5. Castor Oil

1 tsp probably wasn't enough to do anything, but hey, I was afraid I'd hurt the baby. And? I don't want to go into labor with hemorrhoids, thankyouverymuch. Let's save those lovelies for the postpartum period, shall we?

6. Pedicure

Some women swear by this, so I gave it a shot. Maybe the magical moment happens when you hand over your credit card to the salon? That's my theory, anyway, cause Kevin gave me mine and other than pretty toes, nothing much happened.

7. Massage

Supposedly, there are pressure points on the insides of your ankles that will cause contractions. Well, let me tell you, Kevin has run through almost FIVE BOTTLES of Bath and Body Works lotion giving me nightly foot and leg rubs since...wow...month 5? Maybe earlier? and it's not throwing me into labor.

It really helps with swelling, though!

(Yes, I realize I am very pampered.)

8. Glass of wine

Oh, internets, I soooo want to try this one! Yesterday, I even waddled into the liquor store and picked up a delicious bottle...and it's sitting in the fridge just chillin'...*drool*

Kevin won't let me try this one, even though I used my famous "Centuries ago it wasn't safe to drink the water and people lived on mead and wine and spent their entire lives half lit--and yet the human race survived!!!!" argument. All it got me was a dirty look.

(See? Besides scoring mad points in Trivial Pursuit, my history major sometimes works for bizarre conversations in the middle of liquor store parking lots. That $40,000 was NOT wasted, Dad.)

9. Crying

Speaking of my worthless history major...last night at midnight my pregnant brain suddenly said, "Now is the PERFECT time to discuss going back to school full-time!" and it led to WWIII in our bedroom. The drama! The years of marital resentment! The decade worth of pent up frustration! The budget! The debts! The angst! The screaming! The glass of iced tea thrown across the room in a fit of anger! (But not before I reared back and dumped it in my own recently flat-ironed hair before launching it. Damn it.)

Anyway. By 5 am, I was sobbing weakly into a pillow and trying not to vomit.

(I'm kind of stunned that last night happened 100% sober. Wow. That's just messed up.)

Zero contractions.

10. Sex and orgasm

So far? It's not working. But, it's much more fun than #9.

Hmmm. Maybe the baby is listening to me trying out all this crazy stuff and is like, "Wha--? This woman is psycho! I'm staying in here!"

Smart child.