I knew that I would always breastfeed my children. My mom breastfed me and my four siblings and I learned first-hand the many benefits of breastfeeding. My desire to breastfeed was and is as intense as my desire to become a wife and a mother was.
As my friends became pregnant and gave birth, some of them mentioned how breastfeeding was difficult for them initially. I never saw it as difficult for my mom so externally, I acknowledged their struggles, but internally, I told myself that when it came time, breastfeeding might be hard, but I would triumphantly overcome it.
Here I sit one month after the birth of my daughter readily, humbly, and frustratingly admitting that breastfeeding is freakin’ hard. Like throw-a-pillow-against-the-wall hard. (That’s what I did the other night after another unsuccessful, painful attempt at nursing.) Some might say that I was naive in my thinking, but I don’t think I was. I think I was passionate.
After a loooong labor (that’s a story for another post), I ended up having to have a c-section because I was not progressing. I also had an infection that was affecting Baby Girl’s heart rate. No one told me, and I didn’t do prior research because I wasn’t expecting to have a c-section, that the trauma endured from a long labor, all the drugs they were pumping into my system, and a c-section would ultimately affect my first few days as a mother.
Coming out of the operating room, I specifically told my anesthesiologist not to sedate me because I wanted to be awake to hold my baby and do skin-to-skin right away. I was sad that I missed out on that opportunity with not having a natural birth, and I wanted it ASAP. When I got back to my room, my husband came in with Baby Girl and after embracing her, I attempted to nurse her. I don’t recall much from that night except that the colostrum that every. single. article I had read said I would have did not exist.
The day after Baby Girl was born, we were bombarded with visitors. I’m positive this had an added negative effect to our breastfeeding journey. I was tired and needed to rest, but I also desired to feed Baby Girl and sit and talk with visitors. I felt that I would be rude if I asked our visitors to leave when I thought it was time to feed Baby Girl, so I kept quiet. Then with each set of visitors, my brain would float elsewhere and I’m ashamed to admit that feeding my child was not a priority in my mind. (She was hooked up to an IV with antibiotics to ward off the infection and so after one of the nurses told me she was also getting nutrients that way, I think my exhausted brain justified that that meant I didn’t have to feed her that often.)
Each time I attempted to feed her, I would end the session feeling defeated because my body was not producing anything. Literally nothing. No colostrum, no breast milk, nothing. It wasn’t until the night before we would leave the birth center, (two days after she was born) that I started to see colostrum after I pumped. It was heartbreaking to hear her cry through the night, especially after she got her IV out, because she was so hungry.
The day we were going to be released from birth center, our nurse talked to us about supplementing with formula. Baby Girl was jaundiced and the natural way to get rid of jaundice was for her to eat and poop it out. If her jaundice didn’t get better, we would have to go to the hospital and put her under lights. As the nurse talked, emotions welled up inside me and my pride wanted to show its ugly head. I was set on not using any formula and only giving her the natural stuff. I quickly shut down my pride as I realized (and thank the Lord for this), that 1) my child needs to eat, and 2) I did not want to have to come back to the hospital. The nurse gave us formula, showed us what to do with it, and we left the birth center optimistic that my body would figure things out soon and I would be able to breastfeed Baby Girl.
Breastfeeding is such an interesting thing. Since Baby Girl’s birth, I’ve been bombarded with different messages while having internal battles with my feelings and thoughts concerning it. My parents were here after Baby Girl was born and they pushed on me that I should be eating these specific meals because that would most definitely increase my milk supply. My mom stayed with us for about three weeks to help us out and it was wonderful, but the hardest part of that was hearing her comments on how shocked/disappointed(?) she was that my body wasn’t able to do something so natural. Friends came to visit and always asked the dreaded questions, “are you nursing her? How is that going?” Articles I read online weren’t all helpful either. Some women boasted on how their milk came in almost immediately, some sites chastised women for using formula instead of breastfeeding – all made me feel like a failure for not being able to breastfeed my child. I went to a La Leche meeting and the women there were such great advocates for breastfeeding, but I left feeling like a failure for having to supplement because my body should be able to produce enough milk to sustain my child.
Meanwhile, in order to increase my milk supply, we rented a hospital grade pump and I was pumping every three hours. I was taking Fenugreek, eating lactation cookies, drinking “mother’s milk” tea, and attempting to breastfeed all at the same time. What added to the chaos of it all was that Baby Girl had a hard time latching which took a toll on my breasts. It wasn’t until about a week ago that my supply finally came and is matching what we had to offer her in supplementation.
My husband was a Godsend – is a Godsend – through it all. He constantly encouraged me, came with me to lactation appointments, held Baby Girl so I could pump – he did as much as he could to encourage me to keep going. During my most recent meltdown (where I threw the pillow against the wall), he told me that he would support whatever decision I made regarding feeding our daughter. If I wanted to move strictly to formula, he was on board. If I wanted to continue breastfeeding, he was on board. If we wanted to continue breastfeeding and supplementing with formula when needed, he was okay with that, too. I told him I wanted to be able to exclusively breastfeed and he helped come up with a plan on how we could achieve that. When I feel like giving up, he keeps encouraging and offering tips to help.
Baby Girl is a little over a month and yesterday was the first day where I felt content/happy/successful in nursing her. We had a great lactation appointment, she latched well and nursed multiple times when we got home, and the soreness I felt was starting to subside. What a long journey it has been. We are not where I would like us to be, but we are getting there slowly (and sometimes painfully).
Breastfeeding is not for the faint of heart. If you know a mom who is nursing, encourage her. Stand by her as she nurses her child out in public, be her advocate. If you know a mom who is feeding her child with formula, applaud her for what she’s doing: feeding and nourishing her child. We often hear that “breast is best” and though that might be true, some moms don’t have a choice in how they have to feed their child.
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article sponsered by Northern Michigan certified lactation consulting and Mother Hubbards Country Cupboard
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