Isaac and Ethan Altamirano

Don't cry over spilled milk

This is an issue that very few babies have.  An insane and endless supply of milk (knock on wood).  There is something about Becca that makes her produce liters of milk every day. Imagine two full nalgene bottles of thick white god given milk every single day.

At the beginning, when the babies were still at the hospital they couldn’t eat much. They would take the equivalent of a small latte in a period of 24 hours. I mean, they were tiny.  But their mom needed to continue to produce milk by pumping because, as we were told, we would need all that extra milk once the babies get home. Lo and behold, Becca followed all the directions given by the lactation consultant (yes there are lactation consultants and she said she’s so good she could make me lactate) to the tee only like Becca can do it. Those who know her know what I’m talking about.

Becca started with a small amount of milk produced every single day.  Only drops of milk. But Becca kept going at it with our help. I will omit the details of how we helped her because they are better told in person and if you don’t  have children you might not understand the techniques used. Fast forward a few days and she’s pumping about half a a liter every day. Impressive, the lactation consultant said. She couldn’t even imagine what was coming.

After a couple of weeks of lactation-consultant-driven milk stimulus exercises, the production of milk took a huge jump.  Twenty ounces per pumping three times a day.

Becca was told that they recommend to everyone that they should pump every two hours, 24 hours a day. So she took that to heart and did it for a week straight.  Now she was pushing 30 ounces per pumping every two hours. We started to empty our freezer and to throw out frozen foods and got rid of the ice to make space for the milk.

The NICU nursers kindly complaint about the amount of space that the milk was taken. It was enough to feed all the NICU babies for a few days.

Of course, such an insane amount of milk was not sustainable plus the babies were eating very little still. Becca would pump a nalgene bottle and Isaac would take a sip as dinner.

She went to the hospital with mastitis due to the amount of milk she was producing. Not fun. A bunch of antibiotics later and a few days of a horrible fever with unbearable pain Becca was able to get better.

The lactation consultant said that of her 20+ years of consulting, she has never ever seen a production such as this. She also said that almost no one follows her instructions to the tee like Becca was doing.

Nowadays, our babies are eating the equivalent of two wine bottles every day and Becca is still pumping a lot but not as often and not in such a strict schedule.

We ended up buying a new chest freezer devoted to the milk only and continue to keep frozen milk in case we need it. To this day (knock on wood) we are yet to open the freezer to take a frozen bag of milk out for our children to eat.

They are spoiled. They have fresh milk at their disposition and they’ve never had to cry over spilled milk. After all what is a bottle or two spilled on the kitchen when you have a chest freezer and a fresh milk fountain with you at all times. Our babies never cry over spilled milk. Sometimes though they complaint about being splashed by a strong spray of milk that shoots directly into their faces. I think now they know what to expect. They are ready.

Yes, she’s thought about donating but because she has been in so many countries across the world that automatically disqualifies her for any type of donation programs.

People tell me that you can get 14 bucks per ounce in the black breast milk market.

My babies can't talk

I see one month old babies writing in blogs, speaking in videos and having social profiles in facebook. That amazes me. As much as  try and try I cannot get my preemie three-month old sons to write, speak or even create a facebook profile.

I can tell you what I think their expressions mean. I can write about the pocket incident and what I think his tilted and bright-eyed smile meant to me in that specific situation.

We can probably guess quite accurately the meaning of each of their different tones and cries.  We respond quickly when a loud, high-pitched scream comes out of Ethan’s mouth by placing a lukewarm bottle of fresh milk in his mounth. We answer Isaac’s voracious sequential grunting and spitting with a swift placement of a bib under his chubby cheeks and follow up with a bottle of milk into his lips.

We know when Ethan is just wanting attention and pretending to be hungry. We know he just wants to play with the nipple. We understand when Isaac is uncomfortable and just wants to be held.

We can do all those things and understand our babies moans and cries. But I am having the hardest time making him speak in a video or write a blog post.  I think they will eventually do it.

In the meantime, you might receive an email or two from Isaac and Ethan, but know that we do understand they can’t write (or speak for tht matter) and if they could they woud probably say it diferently and better than any impersonation of them be us.

The pocket incident

We were hanging out with the babies in the couch. It was quite late in the evening and Isaac and Ethan were starting to get tired. We were tired as well.  I (Antonio) was holding Isaac in my arms and marveling at the fact that he had eaten three full ounces without a hint of wanting to through up at least a little bit.

This was a major milestone.  Ten minutes already and the full three ounces were still inside his stomach rather than all over his clothes. His usual routine is to eat a lot (acting like he has never been fed before) and then he softly spits out the excess food. Nothing nasty.

Not this time. He was keeping it all in.

I put him upright and held him there, right over my chest. After a few more minutes of quitely falling asleep he woke up and started making his way over the other shoulder.  I let him do his thing.  Pivoting on his head and moving it three times back and forth Isaac made it to my left shoulder and positioned his chin right on top of my t-shirt’s pocket.

He looked extremely comfortable and acomplished. He paused for a couple of minutes and waited for me to look away and slowly proceeded to deposit the excess milk that he’d eaten a few minutes before directly into my pocket.

When he was done he looked up at me like saying… see dad - I don’t want to mess up your clothes and the pocket seemed the best place to do it… are you proud of me?

How could I not be? :)