A Mother's Day to remember

For Mother's Day, I got a very special gift: Mastitis.  Due to my incessant internet reading, I used to be terrified of mastitis.  Every time I had a clogged duct, I would think - call an ambulance!!! Mastitis!!!  But, as time went on, I kind of forgot to be afraid of getting it.  I had a few busy weeks at work where I was going pretty long periods of time without nursing or pumping, and we were getting closer to Max's 1st birthday, so I thought we were on the path to successful weaning.

During Max's party, I kept having a sore boob.  I wasn't sure what it was (after I ruled out cancer) so I just kind of ignored it.  After his party, the girls took my sister to get pedicures to celebrate her graduation.  We were sitting in the pedicure chair and I was describing my pain to my sister, and then other symptoms started popping up.  All of the sudden my body ached and I was shivering so bad the lady had to hold my feet down to paint my toes.  By the end of the pedicure, I was positive that it was mastitis.  Luckily I was able to get on antibiotics ASAP, thanks to having a medical dream team at my fingertips.

Mike had to work on Sunday, so he took care of Maxwell until the very last minute, and then I cried as he left the house.  This was Maxwell's birthday...Mother's Day...and I'm going to spend the entire day being miserable and not being a good mommy to this sweet boy.  I felt like I was going to barf most of the day. My body was on fire but I had the chills.  My head felt like I had the worst hangover of all time.  I rolled around on the floor, trying to play with Max, but was so cold I was hovering under a blanket.  I hoped Max would take one of his all-star naps, but he must've known it was his bday, because he wanted to party all day long.  He probably slept for 30 minutes.  I tried to get him to lay in bed with me and watch Pound Puppies on Netflix.  When the exact time of his birth rolled around, all I could do was stare lovingly at him from the couch (and take a screenshot)

Shattered phone led to stupid trip to Verizon where the guy told me that I must stay on an old version of the iPhone software.  I was too occupied with feeding Max a clementine to understand it. When June 24 rolls around, I will be first in line at Verizon.

Luckily, my mom had a couple hours to spare so she came to the rescue and hung out with Max while I tried to sleep.  I laid in bed with 3 blankets and shivered so bad I couldn't even sleep.  When she had to leave, it was almost Maxer's bedtime, so I knew if I could just get through bathtime, I would be okay.  I don't know if it was the hot water or the bending over, but when I got Max out of the bath, I felt so lightheaded and my vision was going in and out, and I felt like I was going to pass out.  I put Max in his crib and went outside into the snowy weather to sit and drink water.  I felt like I needed to text my neighbor and say, will you come over in 5 minutes and make sure I'm not passed out in the yard - and if so, will you please take care of Max while I hop in an ambulance?

Mastitis, you're a bitch.

I took Monday off and sent Max to his babysitter so I could just chill.  Mike was off too, so I had my own personal Murse.  I told our office manager what was going on, and she gave me a good chuckle with this:

I'm happy to report that I feel MUCH better.  I am going to make it.  But, I have a newfound fear of this nasty infection and a new point of irritation.  If breastfeeding is such a natural thing and "breast is best" than WHY are there so many awful things that come along with it?  I get it, Eve ate the apple first, but come ON!  Isn't the pain of childbirth enough?  We're just trying to feed our babies here, can we get a freaking break???  I've added that to my list of "Questions to ask God upon arrival to heaven"

BUT - Max's birthday party was so fun!  He was hilarious with his expressions and his curiosity.  He got showered with love and tons of cool new toys.  Once summer arrives in Denver for good, we are all set with backyard shenanigans.  He didn't destroy his cake, but this is probably because he has a great respect for food and wants to enjoy every morsel, so he didn't dare be careless.  I actually had to take it away because he probably would have sat there for 3 hours and slowly ate the whole thing.

Some nights when Max is just wearing a diaper (because to him, putting on pajamas after a bath is the ABSOLUTE WORST THING I COULD DO TO HIM), he looks so big.  I feel like all of the sudden he is this little boy, and not the little frog baby that we came home from the hospital with.  He points, he mimics sounds, he knows people's names - I know this is all the natural progression of his development but sometimes I forget that he won't be a teeny babe forever.  His laugh melts my heart - he is our world!  Happy birthday to our sweet Maxwell Everett!