cautious optimism

I really liked the lactation consultant who came by today, Jacqueline. She heard my litany of problems and was properly amazed that we're still willing to give a try; she said she rarely sees people more than once, and here she's the third consultant I've seen (and she knows one of the other ones I've seen and has high respect for her), an expects that we'll probably be working together for awhile to get things to work. I really liked her commitment to working with me as long as necessary, and the fact that she will try to arrange things so I can see her for as little cost as possible; she said she felt bad that I've already paid so much for help!

Her diagnosis for dwindling supply was the stress and disruption of moving (which makes perfect sense as Tuesday I didn't pump as often, and then Wed. I developed the blocked duct), compounded with what was likely mastitis Wed. night until Fri. morning (hence the SO COLD and SO HOT nights I had -- hello, fever. Of course, I only found the box the thermometer was in this morning). She wants me to work on building up supply again, by pumping at least 6 times a day, and seeing a GP about getting a prescription for domperidone. Only after that is better, then we'll working on getting Gwen to latch. So I'm cautiously optimistic about things.

Oh, and she said, water in NL is of good enough quality that I can just use warm water from the tap to mix formula. Whoo!

(mis)perceptions

If I remember rightly from our last vet appointment (almost a year ago), Slinky weighs about the same amount as Gwen. When I sleep on my right side, Slinky likes to worm her way under the covers and curl up with her feet against my belly, her head against my chest, and my arm around her. For some years, when we'd fall asleep in that position, I'd often notice upon waking that I dreamed I was pregnant.

Once I actually was, and there was no room left for Slinky in that particular spot, I stopped dreaming I was pregnant and instead started dreaming that I was sleeping with Slinky.

Last night, I semi-woke up from a deep sleep as Gwen started fussing, and in that drowsy half-awake/half-asleep state, I thought that she was sleeping on my chest (as she often has), even though I'd put her down in her basket the last time she was up; in fact, it was Slinky on my chest.

I wonder how long it will take before Gwen is big enough that I won't confuse the two when I'm asleep? Because clearly the fur or the lack thereof doesn't do the trick!