Two Coffees and a Wine.

Today is that kind of day. I just had a coffee. A really good, bought from my favorite cafe kind of coffee. In an hour or two, I'll be having a made-from-home coffee just to take tylenol because for some unknown reason I am hitting that kind of exhaustion. We are starting to get longer stretches of sleep and for some reason its screwing my system up and making all the past months of no-sleep catch up with me (I think). Then after that second coffee there will be a half cup of wine.

Why wine? Not because it tastes good (thank goodness this particular kind does, DH bought it for me), but actually because it helps with breastfeeding. I have Raynaud's Syndrome. This pretty much means that the blood flow to my extremities isn't working correctly. So my hands, feet, ears, nose and chin get really cold and turn purple and hurt. Or my hands and feet get too much blood, it can get back out and they swell, turn splotchy and sweat, sweat, sweat. Apparently it affects nipples as well, especially when breastfeeding. It hurts, to the point it always feels like you have a bad latch even when the two of you are working perfectly together. My nipples feel like they are being stabbed repeatedly if they get cold and I get random shooting pains. They turn white after I am done feeding. Mostly, doctors tell you to keep those nips warm, cover up as soon as you are done feeding and carry on. There is a drug they can give you, but it has a known side effect of migraines and low blood pressure. Already having both of these, I don't need meds to help out more. So I sit with a heating pad on my breasts before and after she eats. Take a warm shower every night. If I get cold outside, you'll see me walking with my hands on my breasts trying to warm them up. And I drink a half glass of red wine every night.

There is no medical evidence that it helps - the wine at least. But for me it does make a difference. I had my first bottle of wine and notice that breastfeeding was actually enjoyable. I wasn't having pain, it actually felt nice to let my daughter eat as long as she wanted to. I didn't put two and two together until I stopped drinking the wine. All the pain came back. I couldn't wait for her to finish dinner, I hated when my nursing pads rubbed the wrong way on my breast or if my cat climbed up to lay on me. Now I am on my second bottle of wine and once again it is getting better. So for the next year - or as long as my body lets me make milk - there will be nightly wine. Maybe I am turning into my parents!