Breastfeeding. To be quite honest, it is probably the hardest part about having a baby. At least for me it was. I had put off writing this post for ages because I have so many emotions attached to breastfeeding. It did not come easy to me at all, but it was and is one of my greatest accomplishments as a woman and a mother.
Fair warning: I’m really going to wear my heart on my sleeve in this post and it may be a little TMI, so please bear with me.
October 2015. My entire first pregnancy was filled with many hopes, dreams, and aspirations. The majority related to labor and delivery did not come to fruition (more on that later), but I was determined to breastfeed. Once I was moved to my recovery room and my son was placed back in my arms, I immediately placed him at my breast. The pain was horrible. I didn’t know at the time there was such a thing as poor latch or shallow latch. All I knew was that breastfeeding hurt like hell and I was nervous that I wasn’t doing it right. I pulled through the pain and didn’t let anyone see I was hurting. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but as my nipples began to crack and bleed, I began holding my breath before every latch waiting for the sharp sting. I requested a lactation consultant three times, but one never came to my room. I asked the nurses in charge of my care and the baby’s care if I was breastfeeding correctly. They all told me that the latch looked right to them and that the pain would subside. Right.
A couple days later it was time to be discharged and I was informed that my son was a full ten ounces lighter than he had been at birth. It was mandatory that his pediatrician see him the following day. They literally would not let me leave without knowing for sure that he had an appointment scheduled. All the while not one person came in to check on how he was feeding or to assist me in any way.
Long story short, my son’s pediatrician helped me correctly latch him and gave me information on different breastfeeding positions. I went crazy researching and watching videos trying to learn as much as I could about proper latch and how to boost my milk supply. However, my supply was already low and taking its time to come in due to a arduous labor and subsequent C-section. Not to mention that my anxiety of failing my son and being scared that he wasn’t eating enough, made it near impossible for me to eat. I had no appetite. More doctors appointments, my son being diagnosed with failure to thrive. I was a wreck. One day he was just crying and crying from being hungry that I told my husband to run out and get formula immediately. He had his first bottle and ate with such contentment. I broke down. I felt like a horrible mother and failure. I thought to myself, if this is only week one, how am I going to survive?
You should know I’m a perfectionist. Not in the sense that I myself want to be perfect. More in the sense that I want to do exactly the right thing for my kids, my family, my friends, the world, etc. You should also know that I was criticized by people close to me about waiting so long to give him formula and that felt like a slap in the face, but what hurt more were the people that criticized me for giving it to him. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs “WOULD YOU PREFER IT IF HE STARVED TO DEATH!?” I stayed silent and stated that his pediatrician agreed this was the best course of action for him and left it at that. No one could possibly understand my feelings of failure, fear, and shame. Once I saw him gaining weight, however those feelings began to vanish. (Thank you God for Similac.)
Fast forward to June 2017. My second pregnancy was very different from my first. I felt more confident in myself and my abilities as a mother. I did more research on breastfeeding. I stocked up on teas and foods that are known to stimulate breastmilk production. (I’ll provide this info in a subsequent post.) I incorporated them into my diet as much as possible. Drank every recommended ounce of water. Another arduous labor and this time an emergency C-section.
This time, however, I knew I would not fail. My daughter was placed into my arms for the first time and I established a correct latch after 4 tries. She ate. She peed. She pooped. Only lost 2 ounces of weight her entire hospital stay. All this success meant it was going to be easy right? Well, no. I had a very sleepy baby. Sleepy as in she would sleep a good 4 hours at a time no problem. She would also fall asleep after ten minutes of nursing or less. Seems like a good thing, huh? Not for someone trying to establish her milk supply and that hasn’t received her breast pump from the insurance company yet.
Once again, my supply crashed and burned. She only gained an ounce in a week. Suggestions from the pediatrician to supplement and pump or hand express. This time, however, I did not let myself be overcome with fear. I established a pattern of nursing her and topping her off with an ounce of formula. I began pumping every two hours. I found amazing lactation supplements by Legendairy Milk. Bought Liquid Gold and Pump Princess from them. Took them religiously. Drank Mother’s Milk tea. Found more efficient ways to get a correct and deep latch quicker. I was able to finally pump 4-6 ounces a session and could stop supplementing. Then I got mastitis. Literally, the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life. Horrible fever, cold sweats. Inflammation in my breast. Exhaustion. Basically, you get a clogged milk duct and if you aren’t able to clear the clog soon it turns into an infection. I had to get antibiotics. Cold and warm compresses. Tylenol and Ibuprofen. A drop in my milk supply on one side.
A constant battle to achieve this great feat. It didn’t help that my daughter generally hated bottles and would reject them over and over again. Every so often I thought to myself listen, you can give her formula. T had formula. Then I would look at her and it seemed like she was telling me you got this mommy. I literally felt like she would look at me with all the faith in the world that I would be successful. And I’d be damned if I gave up on it. I was doing this for her.
I got my supply back up and we got a rhythym going. Mastitis again. By this point, I was emotionally and physically drained. It felt like everything was against me, but then I realized five months. I had breastfed my daughter for five whole months. We had accomplished this together. At that moment I realized that I couldn’t emotionally handle building my supply back up completely, but I knew I had done an amazing thing and giving her formula wouldn’t be the end of the world. I began nursing her at night and for two feeds during the day and supplemented with formula for the rest. Now that she is almost 8 months old we are exclusively formula feeding. And I don’t see this a failure.
I dealt with a lot of pressure. I believe that everyone had good intentions, but a lot of the comments I received about and during my second attempt at breastfeeding were not helpful. It alternated between people basically insisting that I must breastfeed her and people that thought I was crazy and selfish for trying to breastfeed again. I was blessed with a few angels that encouraged me so much and were so supportive of my decisions. Those that listened to me vent and told me that whatever decision I made they knew it would be the best decision for my baby and I. (I am forever grateful to you guys.)
There is so much more to my breastfeeding and parenting journey that I could add to this post, but I want to end on what is essential to any breastfeeding journey. Support. If you’re planning on breastfeeding, make sure that the people around you are ready to be supportive of you and your decisions. That those people are ready to hear you vent and hold you as you cry. Emotional and moral support are literally one of the most crucial aspects of breastfeeding. Next to someone willing to bring you water and food while you nurse, of course. :) Also, support where education is concerned. Breastfeeding does not come naturally to everyone. The medical professionals you choose to be in charge of your care and your child’s care must be breastfeeding friendly. If they aren’t, seek guidance from your local La Leche League. You can also contact your State’s health department and they usually will provide access to a lactation consultant.
My journey has come to its end and it is bittersweet. I’m so sad that it is already over. My last baby and I are done nursing. Her and I will be the only ones to share this special bond. I feel in debt to my daughter for her emotional support that she doesn’t even know she provided. She has no idea of how she inspired me and drove me to succeed. She made me stronger than I thought I could ever be.
Now we start our next journey.
With tears in my eyes and love in my soul, signing off,
G.
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