{"id":34699,"date":"2021-10-25T10:30:00","date_gmt":"2021-10-25T07:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/domokhozi.ru\/?p=32216"},"modified":"2021-12-20T22:02:13","modified_gmt":"2021-12-20T19:02:13","slug":"how-i-stayed-in-america-15","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/how-i-stayed-in-america-15\/","title":{"rendered":"How I Stayed in America (Part 15)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\u2014 Where is the prince?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am not sure why I did not like my child at \ufb01rst. Probably, I was in a    state of apathy due to  serious medications. I suspect cesareans involve   a killer dose of opiates and other crap. Spinal anesthesia gives me a terrible shaking and hypertensive crisis. In other words, I was not myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After sleeping for several hours after the operation, I was offered to breastfeed. This is how my boob \ufb01ght began. After giving birth, I was extremely swollen. I was like a shapeless animal, aiming to feed a child. My son, despite the dif\ufb01cult childbirth and lack of oxygen, passed Apgar perfectly, which made me incredibly content.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the end of the \ufb01rst day, I was already walking around the ward. It is a common practice in America to ask to get up and take a few steps after 8 o’clock. The times, when women in labor used to lay in the hospital for a week, had passed. Thus, I ended up at home within 48 hours after giving birth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My son was very reluctant towards breastfeeding. It was dif\ufb01cult for   him. Nevertheless, the milk was still there. I can’t say that there was a lot of it, but mastitis started on the \ufb01fth day. The chest hardened and hurt like hell, and I had a fever. At night, I called Macy, who prescribed antibiotics and suggested to stand in a hot shower and knead the   breasts before taking any medicine. It was funny: my dad and husband stood with me in the shower and kneaded my chest in four hands. If not for family ties, this picture could look like a prelude to hardcore porn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After 24 hours, the antibiotics kicked in, and the mastitis was gone. I continued to prepare for feedings in a hot shower. Furthermore, I kept pumping milk and storing it in the fridge for later. There was a feeling that it would end quickly. The happiness did not last long, because as soon as I felt a relief, I stopped taking antibiotics. And I paid for it. It is no coincidence that all the pill boxes always state that the medicine must   be taken for the entire course, even if relief has come earlier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nevertheless, I was a stupid Russian chicken back then, who thought she knew everything. In fact, I believed that antibiotics were evil and would negatively affect my child. In the end, my stupidity did nothing but harm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mastitis was back again, as strong as it was before. The feeding turned into endless sobbing. I had to include a special mixture and feed the  baby with a bottle. Everyone knows that as soon as a baby is offered a bottle, he chooses it (especially if there is mother’s milk), because breast<\/p>\n\n\n\n

sucking is much more dif\ufb01cult than a paci\ufb01er. Despite it though, I still fed for a couple of months, and one day my milk simply did not come anymore. By the way, I was drinking tea with milk like a madman \u2014 according to my mother, it was a proven option to stimulate the production of natural milk. Let me stop you right here, because I know you might think there are more effective ways to stimulate milk production. Surely, but this is my story from the past\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Also, if someone is expecting a story about the happiness deriving from motherhood, then I am sorry to upset my reader, but I did not have a feeling that I was ready to be a mother. Nor did I have a feeling that my program was completed. It seemed like this all was some sort of enticement. I think that I was satis\ufb01ed by the fact that I could still give birth, but I felt fully like a mother only years later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Little Fedor was my best teacher. Not knowing what it was like to be a mother, it was a real challenge for me. I think most mothers would understand what I mean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
PART 14<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n
PART 16<\/a><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u2014 Where is the prince? I am not sure why I did not like my child at \ufb01rst. Probably, I was in a    state of apathy due to  serious medications. I suspect cesareans involve   a killer dose of opiates and other crap. Spinal anesthesia gives me a terrible shaking and hypertensive crisis. In other words,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":35335,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[110],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34699"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=34699"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34699\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":38921,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34699\/revisions\/38921"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/35335"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=34699"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=34699"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lopatova.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=34699"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}