The Miracle of Breastfeeding

I am reading the best book right now. It's called Spirit-Led Parenting: From Fear to Freedom in Baby's First Year (written by Megan Tietz and Laura Oyer). I would like to recommend this book to anyone expecting a baby. It's pages are life-giving.

Ironically, I am reading it just after my baby turned one. (It is meant to coincide with the first year of Baby's life.) Even so, I am finding tears of celebration (coupled with a few tears of regret) as I read. Point is: GREAT BOOK!

I just finished the chapter on feeding baby. My experience feeding John so closely mirrored Laura's experience that it was scary. Reading her story made me want to put my own in writing. Here goes.

Sherry. That's my mama's name. She breastfed both my sister and me for close to two years. I have heard her talk about her wonderful breastfeeding experience(s) my entire life.

Calley. That's my sister's name. She breastfed my nephew, Mason, for the first seventeen months of his life. I witnessed him latch for the first time. Five hours after being born via emergency C-section. With ease. Like he'd been doing it forever.

Ashley. That's my name. I am still breastfeeding my baby boy at 12+ months. And this, my friends, is a miracle.

John was born via C-section at 10:27 p.m. on June 2, 2011. I had been telling my doctor all day long as I labored that I wanted to nurse John right after he was born. I wanted him to have the best possible first feeding scenario.

You see, I have been dreaming of breastfeeding my children for my entire life. Sounds weird, I know, but I've always heard my mama talk about its importance. Heck, I've even been known to pull up my shirt and breastfeed my baby dolls. I never imagined any other way.

My doctor heard my incessant pleas to nurse my baby at the first possible opportunity because when I entered the recovery room, my baby was already there waiting for me to feed him. I was so thankful that I would be feeding my son for the first time just one hour after his entrance into the world (rather than five like Cal's experience).

Up to the breast he goes, and ...

Wailing. Loud, endless crying.

No latching with ease (like Mason). No nursing like he'd been doing it forever.

I asked the nurse who was assigned to me from the postpartum side of the floor (and not much help, bless her heart) to please get my mama. She sweetly replied that it would not be possible for my mom to see me in recovery. So, we struggled. Me, Josh, and this poor little nurse together and completely in vain.

The next few days were a blur. In the hospital. Loads of visitors. No latching. Lactation consultants. More visitors. Calley trying to help. Still no latching. Even more visitors.

Just a practical tip: If you're a new mama in the hospital baring your ninnies (as we call them:) for the first time around people you're not totally comfortable doing that around, you can kindly ask them to leave for a few while you nurse. Josh and I felt so loved by all of our visitors, but at times, I felt very tense and uncomfortable feeding with so many people in the room. Your baby picks up on your discomfort. While this was not the solution to our problems (six months of practice would be), it may be helpful to feel the freedom to ask for privacy in those early, uncomfortable days.

I remember just wanting it to work. I remember thinking, "If only I could have a few uninterrupted minutes with my sister helping me, maybe he'd get it." And, "If he would just not get so MAD at the breast, maybe he could really do it." And, "What's wrong with my baby? Why can't he nurse?" And, "What if I can't nurse? Will my mom disown me?" (Don't worry. We talked that one through, and I already knew the answer anyway.) It was tough.

Josh and I came home from the hospital to my mama's house (so I wouldn't have to climb three flights of stairs to our apartment three days after my C-section). We came home with a constantly fussy hungry baby. After talking with the lactation consultant, I began pumping. I had purchased a cheap, terrible breast pump prior to John's birth. I will not divulge the brand of said terrible pump on the World Wide Web. I will say, however, that it is very important for a pumping mama to INVEST in a quality breast pump. One word: Medela. (It would be a few days before that one word came to have meaning [and bring relief] in my life.)

Anyway, I started pumping with my terrible breast pump. One night. Two hours. Pain. I looked down at my precious three (or so) ounces of milk, and it had sort of a pinkish tint to it. Bleeding nipples had contaminated my precious supply of nourishment for my hungry baby. What's worse is that Josh poured it down the drain before the Le Leche League confirmed that it is okay for babies to drink a little bit of blood. :(

There was one night when John nursed for 40 minutes. Minor success amid 855 unsuccessful feedings.

When the doctor's appointments began, the heartbreak came too. My sweet 7 lb. 11 oz. baby was not gaining weight. (He met his birth weight again at 3 weeks old.) After leaving the doctor's office for his one-week check-up (that I pumped all the way through), we huffed it up to the lactation consultants at Candler.

Friends, please make use of these wonderful people. I love, love, love the lactation consultants at Candler Hospital in Savannah, GA. I am forever indebted to them. To this day, when I have a question, they are the ones I call.

On this particular afternoon, I had just fed my baby a bottle of gold (as we started calling my breast milk), and he was sleeping during our appointment. The LC at work that day took the rare, quiet opportunity to introduce me to a wonderful invention called a hospital-grade breast pump. After pumping for about 15 minutes (and getting the same amount it took me two hours to produce just a couple of days before), Josh happily doled out $75 for this wonderful invention to come home with us for a month. Everyone felt better.

This was also the day that I was introduced to Soothies (hydro-gel pads). PLEASE use these for the first three weeks of breastfeeding so that pieces of your breast don't come off like mine did. Ouch. Unnecessary ouch. Trust me, buy the Soothies.

This was also the day that the LC gave us permission to try something called a contact nipple shield. It's basically a little piece of soft plastic that goes over the breast to aid babies with latch issues. I remember getting home from our great outing and watching my baby boy successfully (and quietly) eat for the first time. My mama was so relieved, but I remember feeling so defeated. I wanted to nurse the right way. What was wrong with me?

Josh and I continued visiting the lactation consultants for the first two months of John's life. He had frequent weight checks. The story remained the same. Skinny, scrawny, not-gaining-enough-weight baby. It was very disheartening, but my pediatrician assured me that I could continue breastfeeding until his next appointment. The only problem was that we were moving across the country the next day, and we had to get established with a brand new pediatrician.

Additionally, my pediatrician encouraged me to begin taking an herb called fenugreek to boost my milk supply. Fenugreek and I would become great friends and worst enemies, as it sustained my ability to nurse and caused me weeks worth of engorged misery. I took 12 capsules a day for several months, and boy did I feel the increase! [Note: fenugreek makes Baby's poop really green and runny, should anyone try it. Don't be surprised.]

One month later (at 3 months) when we FINALLY got to see a pediatrician in Michigan, John had gained a whole pound! Praise God! We rested easy for a couple of weeks, but he was still very small, and something in my gut told me that he wasn't getting enough.

My gut proved right when we went to the doctor for his four month check-up, and he had only gained 3 ounces. :( It was then that we began supplementing formula. THIS BROKE MY HEART. However, my baby grew, and motherhood started to become a lot more fun.

He had a lot of formula from 4-6 months. I was still nursing him a few times a day, pumping frequently and giving him the expressed milk, and nursing exclusively at night. I hated giving him formula, and I was not ready to give up yet. I was also extremely motivated by the naysayers. There were a lot of people in my life who told me that formula was the best choice for John. I was not annoyed by their voices. I was motivated to try even harder. Am I stubborn? Willful? Crazed? I don't know. But it worked.

I don't remember when THE latch came. I do know that flying on airplanes certainly helped. I would nurse John the entire flight every time we flew. On a flight home in November, he threw the ninny shield almost immediately upon boarding the plane. I scurried to find it as the plane was taking off with no luck. Yep, he latched well that day. Then, in December, we took 6 different flights in a matter of three days. Intense baby and breast bonding. It was after that trip full of flying that I noticed my son had become a nurser. We soon threw out our ninny shields, our bottles, our formula, and our fenugreek. How many other moms can say, "I weaned my child back onto the breast"? Not many, I'm assuming. I credit God (who often answers prayer in ways we do not expect and would not approve of it we'd known His plans beforehand) and fenugreek.

There is so much that I could say about breastfeeding. But I'll leave it at three words: I LOVE IT! My initial goal was to breastfeed until age two. Of course, when we encountered all of our difficulties, I wondered if I'd even make it to two months. Now I'm back to my initial goal, but I'm following my son's cues. I'd love to know that he self-weaned and nursed until HE was good and ready to quit.

I also just want people to know that you CAN do it. Breastfeeding almost killed me, but I had the best support person possible (my hubby) keeping me sane. Keep at it. Even when it's hard. Even when you think you cannot possibly feed this child anymore. (Good news is: It's rare for a baby to wait until six months to latch.) Endurance. It's a word you think of with sports like basketball or running. I most closely associate it with breastfeeding.

I'll take a slow starter, but a good finisher any day. Love you, John Piggy. Mama's good eater. :)