I dreamed I was going to do some sort of reading of my poems. I arrived with a stack of poems in a big box that looked like our dining room table turned upside down, and everyone at the reading treated me like some kind of crazed pariah. “That is the filthiest dining room table I’ve ever seen,” I heard people gossiping to one another. “And are we really supposed to listen to those poems after she has let them touch her dirty, dirty clothes? Doesn’t she ever do laundry?”
Sheesh. You’d think my subconscious could give me a break once in a while.
I mentioned that Ingrid’s fantastic and long searched for day care is most likely closing at the end of the summer. We have two options in front of us:
1. Cooperatively run day care center nearby but slightly off my path to work. Fourteen kids in her classroom, two teachers. Rave reviews from many, many families. Four hours of “work” required per month. Advantages: Pretty close to guaranteed reliability and stability (it’s been there 30 years). Worries: Is it going to freak Ingrid out to be in a classroom with 14 kids?
2. Small (5 kids, max) in-home day care run by a woman I sort of know through our early childhood classes. She has an early childhood ed. background and taught preschool for eight years. I know some of the kids who go there, and they are on the quieter, more mellow side. She has a long list of stellar references. It’s two blocks from where I work. Advantages: Many. I am much more confident that Ingrid will be comfortable in this setting. Worries: She plans to be doing this for the next five years, but with a one-woman show like this I know anything could come up and then we’d have to put Ingrid through another transition. Also, if she or either of her two kids is sick, there’s no backup and we’re out of luck for that day (though she doesn’t charge for sick days she takes).
Iris is cutting her top front teeth and as a result she has been nursing funny for the past week or so. By “funny” I mean “clench, clench, clench, chomp, chomp chomp.” For a while this was only moderately painful, but during one of last night’s nursing sessions it started to be really, really painful, and then this morning I noticed there is an actual open sore on my nipple. Which I guess would explain why it has been feeling like she’s chewing my nipple off: She is.
I am so taken with the pain and grossness of this that it’s all I can do to keep from telling everyone about it: “I have an open sore! On my nipple! My baby has been chewing my nipple off! Feel sorry for me and be impressed with my motherly dedication!”
More worrisome is that right now it genuinely hurts too much to nurse. And this, of course, is the boob that makes literally 90% of the milk. So poor Iris is cranky, and I’m worried my whole supply is going to dry up. I am pumping on the wounded side (which hurts a lot, but much less than nursing), but not getting much milk, and nursing her only on the uninjured but wimpy side. Other than Lansinoh and Ibuprofen, what else should I be doing? At this point I wish someone would just give me a hit of (insert name of nursing-safe extreme pain reliever here) so I could let her nurse on the milky side again.