MIA....or almost

Well it's been about two weeks since I last posted. I thought we'd hit the bottom, but the following day (after another horrible puke-filled night) the GP referred us to the hospital. My poor lil bird  spent the next six days being fed through a tube, as he was just so tuckered out from the constant vomiting and the coughing that disturbed his sleep, he couldn't find the energy to suckle. A viral infection with bronchiolitis was what they told us, but all I knew was that my wee man was dehydrated and so far from being himself that I barely recognised him.

Being as it is bronchiolitis season, the place was packed & we spent two nights on the assessment unit waiting for a bed on the children's ward. But even with the move to the ward our problems didn't end. No one was deliberately negligent, but they were so overworked and understaffed that problems were unavoidable. My biggest annoyance, of many, was finding that the hospital had either lost, thrown away, or given away to another patient (😱) breast milk that I had fought hard to express. You see while my little boy is doing just fine feeding from the source, I've never been a great pumper. Apart from the first day my milk came in, I've always struggled to get more than 50mls between the two boobs & when he started refusing bottles around 4 months, I stopped bothering. As they were giving the boy 60-80mls per feed, I spent the first few days pumping around the clock like a crazy lady, and panicking when I didn't have enough. 

At this point my tribe went into action. I am so incredibly lucky to have found the haven of the Retro Mummies & Pregnant Pin-Ups group on Facebook. The women there are strong, fierce, non-judgemental and a force to be reckoned with when united to a cause. Between them, they put the call out to all their groups and before I knew it, my messenger inbox was filling up with offers of donor milk. Total strangers to me and my boy went out of their way, in some cases by many miles, to bring sustenance to my child when I was not enough. Women from as far as Luton & Leighton Buzzard made their way to MK General Hospital with bags of liquid gold to help get my wee man back on the mend. With the pressure taken off me, I was able to attempt to get some sleep (I'd been pumping hourly to try to keep ahead of the feeds) and to concentrate on being there for my baby. 

There are not enough words in any language to tell these ladies just how much their kindness and thoughtfulness meant. I was going out of my mind trying to be all and do everything and their donation gave a much needed respite that allowed me to focus on the baby. Between the kindness of strangers, and the support of our families, and my tribe, I survived our stay. There were many times I thought I'd crack, but every single time there was a mama there to hold a candle to my darkness. Even when I live streamed my hoarse, croaking lullabies at 2am, god help them, they sat through them. 

Thankfully, a week on from our discharge, things are slowly improving. All three of us still have a lingering cough, we are still catching up on our sleep and the baby is clingy as fuck...but we are home. We are past the worst & taking it easy. Lil bird even took most of his grandparents (my daddy had to stay home and mind the shop, so we will repeat later on for him) to meet Father Christmas. Despite the beginnings of separation anxiety, he was so good! We are excited about the holidays ahead and can't wait to see what Santa has in store.

To all our wonderful donors- Thank you seems so small, but it is honestly, and truly heartfelt. To my amazing tribe - Thank you. Always, always, thank you. To our parents -thank you for all the wonderful support, it was and is truly appreciated . To my long-suffering hubs -we can do this!