One of those perks of motherhood seems to be a daily load of laundry. Not only does Hunter go through two to three onesies a day, but I go through clothes at a rapid pace as well. We go through what feels like a dozen burp cloths a day, although I haven't actually been keeping track, because I use them for everything. And no, I didn't suddenly change subjects, the burp cloths and my clothes are related. One of the glories of breastfeeding is that you leak everywhere. Apart from the cloths that we use to burp Hunter and put under his bum when changing him (let me tell you, much easier to throw the cloth in the laundry when poop happens during a diaper change. I threw away a grand total of four diapers during one diaper change this morning. The poop just wouldn't stop. At least he hasn't gotten me yet), but then there are the occasions when a burp cloth just isn't handy, and thus my robe becomes a spit up catcher, because he only spits up in volume when I don't have a burp cloth handy.
I also soak through several every day because my breasts apparently think I have twins. Our schedule generally involves feeding on one side for 10-15 minutes and then switching to the other side (although I am reevaluating this at the moment). The second breast seems to think it's in competition with the first breast, because it won't. stop. leaking. I have to put a burp cloth underneath it to catch all of the milk. I also go through a couple of shirts every day because inevitably I wind up soaked at some point during the day. Anyone who knows my health history knows that tight fitting clothes, such as bras, don't always get along with me. So yesterday to save myself the trouble of soaking clothes or being in pain (some days you're just handed crappy options) I just wore a towel underneath my robe for the second half of the day. The first half involved seeing David off at the airport, and they tend to appreciate clothing there, so I suffered through it, in every way.
I've stopped washing changing pad covers and my bedding just for a little bit of spit up or urine. They get thrown in when I'm doing laundry anyway and have room, but otherwise it's usually just not worth it. I've also expanded my tolerance for spit up on onesies. At first any little bit of wetness warranted a change of clothes. Now, as long as it doesn't seem like it's going to cause chafing, I let it go until I would change him anyway. And yet still the laundry piles seem huge every day. There's always something to be washed and something to be put away.
On a completely different note, my weight keeps dropping. At this point I've lost about 35lbs. This is the skinniest I've ever been. I've always been used to dealing with a belly. Before I was pregnant it was the belly I always sucked in, and it sucked in well. I was able to look a lot flatter than if I let it all hang out, and walked around in an almost constant state of ab-clenching without even thinking about it. Then I got pregnant and I wanted a belly to show off. That and it's hard to suck in a baby. And originally after having the baby I thought I was back to where I was before I got pregnant. Except giving it two weeks has left me without much to suck in. I definitely have a pooch, there's definitely fat on my belly (and those awful stretch marks), but it's a skinny pooch, if that makes sense. Momma Mac generously took me clothes shopping last week, which was wonderful because I hadn't thought to bring any non-maternity clothes with me from Colorado, and I'm actually worried that they won't fit if I keep losing weight. I think I'm going to try to limit what I wear for another couple of weeks and see what happens, just in case.