The Great Formla Debate, Revisited, or My Sick Boob*

*If you have boy parts or are squeamish, you might not want to read this.

I have mastitis. I woke up at 4 a.m. on Monday in severe pain. I tried to feed Baby since it's had been nine hours since I'd pumped. He would have none of it. I lay there for an hour, not wanting to wake Husband, since the hours between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. are my shift. After an hour the pain became unbearable, and I had to wake Husband, tell him I needed to pump, and make sure he was awake enough to remember that Baby was in the bed. Yeah, we're still doing that. I went downstairs and was freezing. I turned the AC off and pumped for 20 minutes. I got a whopping three ounces out. Three ounces-after not nursing or pumping for nine hours! I went back to bed, and even with the down comforter could not get warm. I shivered and shook and was generally miserable. At 6 a.m. when the alarm went off, I told Husband what was going on and that I absolutely could not take care of Baby. I figured we'd call my sister-in-law and ask her to come over until my other sister-in-law got here, but he took the day off in order to take care of me and Baby. Wow. He pretty much never stays home. He even took advantage of the 20 minutes our internet worked this morning (thanks, Comcast), and found my doctor's phone number for me. I went to the doctor and got antibiotics and went home to shiver and sweat in bed and virtually ignore my sister-in-law. My day consisted of me lying on the couch, taking my temperature every ten minutes in order to gauge how much it was rising, Husband yelling at me to stop taking my temperature every ten minutes, and me bitching and moaning about how terrible I felt. My mother came to take care of Baby that evening and buy me orange Gatorade, which I have to have whenever I get really sick.
So what does this have to do with formula? We gave Baby formula. We gave it to him Saturday night and gave him some during the day on Sunday and once more on Sunday evening. We gave him formula against the wishes and advice of my dad and sister, and we did it sort of because we hoped it would help him sleep in his crib, or at least his swing for more than two hours an evening, and we did it because I needed to occasionally be able to leave him for a little while. About three weeks ago the sad for no reason started coming back, and on Friday the unstoppable crying for no reason came back. I felt spread thin, stressed, and tired from feeding him every 90 minutes to two hours. I figured that if we could use formula once at night, I'd actually be able to go to bed at 10 when my sleeping shift starts, and if I was unable to pump, or didn't pump enough, I could leave formula with someone and use the time to do a couple of errands or take a shower or brush my teeth. It wasn't something I wanted to do-I wanted to be someone who didn't give her baby formula until I had to go back to work (I'm not going to be a pump at work kind of gal-I think that could end up being unfair to my students). I'm not judging people who chose to formula feed; I'm not sure why I feel so bad about it. I think I feel like I failed and like I'm selfish. I'm giving my baby formula because I want to sleep or go out or want more than a full hour to go by before I have to whip out my cha chas again. I can't make my baby go for more than a full hour before he wants to eat again.
So on Sunday, Baby got a lot of formula. He had a fabulous afternoon with Aunt Jen and his cousins while Husband and I went our separate ways for awhile. I managed to pump twice that day, since I was alone and didn't need to constantly hold a Baby so he could eat, sleep, or be entertained by me repeatedly dabbing his mouth with a cloth. I'm not sure why he finds it so great, but he does, or at least did until I introduced him to "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes." I pumped about six ounces in two sessions and managed to semi-destink my kitchen. When Husband gave Baby his bedtime feeding around 10 o'clock that night, I chose not to pump. I wasn't completely convinced that a six ounce bottle of formula would sustain Baby for several hours, so I didn't pump. In retrospect, that was really stupid of me. Really, really stupid. Unbelievably stupid. One cause of mastitis is a clogged milk duct. I assume that's what happened to me, considering how long I'd gone without pumping or nursing on that side. As part of my punishment, I am supposed to nurse Baby on the infected side as much as possible. I understand logically that I'm not being punished and that I'm probably not being selfish by deciding to give Baby the occasional bottle of formula, but I still feel guilty. I guess that's what makes me such a great lapsed Catholic.