All is Right with the World – Faythe and her Daughter

Growing up I always knew I would breastfeed when/if I had children. There was really no question or thought put into it. My mom had breastfed both my brother and I for a full year. She normalized breastfeeding for us. It was the right thing to do...formula wasn't even an option. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't the natural best thing; therefore out of sight out of mind.

There I was; holding my daughter for the first time. I knew that the best thing for baby was to be skin to skin and to offer the breast right away, so I did. No thought was put into it, because after all it’s natural, right? That was the way I always looked at it until I actually offered her my breast and it didn't feel natural at all. My daughter had trouble latching onto my breast. As I continued trying to guide my nipple into her mouth it was obvious that we were both getting frustrated because we both had no clue what to do. We had to learn together.

With the help of a nipple shield, La Leche League, and lots of support from my husband and mother, we managed to pull through and learn together. My daughter fed for hours at a time. She would projectile vomit everywhere, then want to nurse once more. I never denied her or put her on a schedule because I knew she was nursing for more than just nutrition. She was nursing for comfort and security. The newborn days were really trying. I felt like a human pacifier for the first 3 months of my daughter's life. But that time also brought us so close together. We formed a bond like no other. We worked hard to form a nursing relationship. Some would say breastfeeding comes so naturally, but I would have to disagree. Yes it is natural, but I had no clue what I was doing, and neither did she. It was so frustrating, because I wanted so bad to guide my daughter and teach her, but it wasn't until I let go and decided to enjoy the ride that we became in sync. We became a team and we learned the ropes together.

 Without the support of my husband and my mom I don't know if I would have made it this long. I am 2 weeks shy of my 1 year milestone!  Now breastfeeding feels as natural as breathing for both of us! Breastfeeding has proved itself to be so much more than simply nutrition. Breastfeeding provides comfort, peace, love, a quiet place. Breastfeeding has provided me a bond like no other. I am so proud of myself and I have no regrets. I plan on breastfeeding for as long as I can, because these moments don't last forever. My breastfeeding relationship with my daughter has changed a multitude of times, so I have learned to enjoy it while it's happening.  Sometimes it will be hard. Sometimes you will feel like a human pacifier. But then you look down and gaze into your child's eyes as they look up and smile at you. All is right in the world.

Breast Pump Aversion – Sharon and Ellis

My whole pregnancy was all about research. Even before we were trying, I was researching. Researching what would be best to do during pregnancy, and researching what would be best for baby after he’s born. I already knew that breastmilk is the most perfect meal for babies, but the books I read further enlightening me on the subject. I knew when Ellis was born that I wanted immediate skin-to-skin contact to help us start breastfeeding right away.

I was 41 weeks and 3 days pregnant when we welcomed our sweet baby boy into this world. I had an unmedicated, all-natural birth at a birthing center with my husband, midwife and doula by my side. Nothing could describe how excited I was to meet our baby. Even between pushes, I was smiling at my husband and telling him how happy I was that we would get to meet our baby soon. And when I finally did get to meet him, and he was laid on my chest, I was over-the-moon. Love at first sight! And we were eager to get him fed. It was amazing to see him latched on, knowing what to do. 

Unfortunately, he had taken a breath a little too soon during delivery and got some fluid in his lungs that had to be suctioned out. It gave us a little scare, but I knew he would be OK. It did cause his blood oxygen levels to be a little low, so they had to put an oxygen mask as he was rushed by ambulance to the hospital. I had to wait at the birthing center a little bit before they could release me, so my husband rode with my son. He called a little later to tell me how it was going. It was only 3 hours after birth (and I had breastfed him already), and the nurses were already trying to shove formula at us, telling my husband they needed to give him a bottle. My husband declined, knowing I would be there within the hour. Hearing the story though, I nearly strangled the nurses through the phone when I heard the word “bottle.”

I got to the hospital, and Ellis was already off oxygen and getting his numbers up on his own. I breastfed him immediately, and he nursed for more than an hour, enjoying snuggles with his mama. When I was pregnant, I heard the horror stories of moms who were unable to breastfeed, had low milk supply, babies with tongue tie or lip tie, etc. I was worried that we would face similar issues, and I feared being unable to breastfeed and having to supplement with formula. I tried everything I could to give us a conducive environment for our breastfeeding relationship. And it paid off! I am proud to say that ten weeks later, he’s 100 percent powered by breastmilk.

Breastfeeding has not been without its woes, however. I had struggles with engorgement, clogged ducts, and just a little lip tie. There were times when I fought tears through the pain while he ate. There were times when I was up at 3, 4, and 5 a.m. unable to sleep because of the pain. Then I’d turn around and have to be up doing it again running on 3-4 hours of sleep. I remember showering and contemplating, “What if I stopped breastfeeding? I wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore and have this pain.” But I knew I could get through it, because it’s what’s best for my sweet boy. And I’m glad I worked my way through it. I visited with a lactation consultant for some pointers while we were at the hospital, and I went to a latch clinic when Ellis was just 12 days old to make sure we were off to a good start. When I was pregnant I watched a 3+ hour-long DVD on breastfeeding. When I ran into troubles, I did more research to help me get through it.

Our next big hurdle was my return to work. I would be going back to work full time at 6 weeks postpartum. The date approached, and I dreaded it. I pumped a few times to start a little stash before that date. I really, really despised my breast pump. When we were trying to get labor going, they had me on the breast pump, and it made contractions more intense. It also felt so awkward. I felt like a stupid cow hooked up to this machine. Since then, my aversion to the breast pump has lessened. I no longer dread it. I got pretty used to it when I got into the habit of pumping 2-3 times every day at work. A friend of mine told me that her company let her use a white noise machine to cover up the mechanical whirring of the breast pump. I thought, “What a great idea! Then it won’t be so loud and awkward.” I didn’t have one of those machines at work, so I thought I’d just play the white noise sound on my phone. Then I thought of an even better idea and played music instead. Getting to “blast” some of my favorite songs while I pumped certainly made the time go by quicker and made it somewhat enjoyable. 

I’ve also done every trick in the book to ensure a good supply: I drink three liters of water a day, eat lactation treats, have overnight oats or lactation smoothies for breakfast, use coconut oil as pumping lubricant, and I look at photos and videos of my boy while I pump (I Insta-stalk myself lol).

Today at ten weeks postpartum, I’ve started a new journey. I got the amazing opportunity to work mostly from home. With the commute and working full time, I was away from Ellis about 50 hours a week. Now I’m working 30 hours a week mostly from home, giving me about 20 hours back into my life, and I get to spend more time with Ellis instead of having to find childcare for him. I am so happy! My husband has been taking care of him while I was at work, and he hadn’t had much luck getting him to sleep for more than 30-45 minute stretches during the day. I know when I was with Ellis, I’d get him to sleep just fine and take 1-3 hour naps after I breastfed him. I love feeding him as we lay in bed, letting him fall asleep snuggled up next to me. He is such a cuddler! I am so glad I get to feed him from the breast again instead of so much pumping/bottle feeding. There is something so special about breastfeeding, and I am just so glad that I can nourish my baby with my body. It is an amazing experience!

New Mom Anxiety About Breastfeeding ~ Lindsey and Calvin

I can remember sitting in a restaurant with my husband, my mother, and my brother’s family.  My sister-in-law needed to nurse her twin babies.  She picked up their baby girl, who was just a few months old.  Fumbling with a muslin blanket, she attempted to nurse without exposing her breast to everyone at the table.  She didn’t seem too concerned about others seeing her, and that sweet little girl was not interested in hiding away under a blanket while she enjoyed her meal.  I was pregnant at the time, and I felt the blood rushing into my cheeks.  “I just saw her NIPPLE!“ I felt so embarrassed for everyone!  I had watched her nurse plenty of times in private. I had seen her struggle with creating a perfect latch, seen her exposed and never thought twice. Now though, we were in public. Now, others could see too.  Looking back at this moment I am embarrassed, but not for my sister-in-law—for my own thoughts in those moments!

            Our son, Calvin, was born after 47 hours of labor. I had a fever during delivery; therefore, he was born with a fever.  His oxygen levels were lower than they should have been.  He lay on my chest for a brief moment while my husband cut the cord, then the NICU nurses whisked him away from me.  I remembered knowing how important the first few hours were and I called out, “Where is my baby?  I want skin-to-skin!” Eventually, someone explained to me what was happening.  I desperately pleaded with them to put my baby back on my chest.  “Skin-to-skin will help him!  My body will regulate his temperature!  You can give him oxygen while I hold him!”  I was told I was wrong, and I could only hold him for a minute before they had to take him to the NICU.

            As I looked at the beauty I had just delivered and held him close, I wanted nothing more than to offer him my breast. I was told I could not. Too soon, and against my wishes, the nurse took my little boy away.  Before the doctor left the room, she came to me rolling her eyes and said, “They told me you do not want us to give him formula?” I told her I didn’t want to have him taste the formula, and that I didn’t want him to have a bottle.  “We have to give him a feeding tube; he will not taste it.” I was so confused and tired.  I nodded my head and she left.   The nurses brought me a breast pump and taught me how to use it. I was told by the NICU nurses to get as much colostrum as I could and they would feed it to him in a syringe.  When I asked if I could nurse, they told me “no.”  When I asked what was wrong with my baby, I was told he was stable and they could see nothing wrong.  Still, I was not allowed to take him to my room.

            The next morning, with a new shift of nurses (and a new doctor), I asked if I could feed my baby.  The nurse looked astonished that I had not already.  She took him out of his bed and placed him in my arms.  My sweet boy had cords tangled about him.  They were giving him fluids and formula, and tracking his perfect heartbeat.  I listened to all of the beeping as the nurse pulled a curtain around me and I pulled down my gown.  My breast seemed twice the size of his tiny head.  I thought to myself, “How can his wee mouth EVER latch on to THIS?”

            The nurse walked me through how to nurse and I thought of all of the times I had watched my sister-in-law, and others I know, nursing.  I squeezed what little colostrum would come out from my nipple, and with those images in my mind, I waited for that perfect moment to place him.  I brought his mouth to my chest.  He latched on and it was beautiful…Textbook latching!  Soon after, he went to sleep.  In fact, for the next few days that’s all he would do.  The NICU was pumping him so full of formula, he didn’t need me.  Yet, every time I came into the room I was bombarded with questions about how much I was pumping, followed by disappointed looks and remarks about it not being enough.

            It seemed every nurse told me something different.  “Your milk would come in if you use a shield when nursing.”  “Your milk won’t come in if you use a shield.”  “Your breasts are too big.”  “Your nipples are too short.”  “Your nipples are perfect.”  “You need to use the football hold.”  “He should only be held lying across your stomach.”

  

            I was so overwhelmed and distraught.  Most of all, I just wanted my baby to come home.  After three days, and many nurses, I asked what I had to do to get my baby home.  “If you would JUST let him have a bottle, we could take the feeding tube out and take him off of the fluids. Then, they would probably let him go home.”  I was not producing enough milk for their standards.  Beat down and defeated, I agreed.  By that night, he was disconnected from all cords and I was told they would probably let him go home the next day.

            The day we brought him home from the hospital my milk came in.  It came in and it kept coming. My breasts were engorged, sore, and milk was going everywhere.  I would try to feed him and milk would spray him in his face.  I started pumping to help with the pain, but then I started feeling sick.  My temperature skyrocketed and I began to display symptoms of stomach flu.  Initially, we thought I had mastitis, but I pumped the milk out and had no lumps or soreness left in my breasts.  Around midnight, my mother carried me to the doctor (pump parts in tow) and my husband was left alone with our son on his first night home.

            I spent that first night in the emergency room.  I felt embarrassed every time I declined testing or medication that I felt would interfere with nursing.  I had to explain to MULTIPLE nurses that it was in fact, okay to send my breastmilk for my son to drink, even though I was sick.  After moving me out of the ER, they found a room for me on the oncology floor of all places.  I refused to stay there in a shared room where Calvin could not be with me.  I continued to pump and send home milk through various family members or friends while I waited.  Finally, they contacted my OBGYN and she helped get me moved to Women’s Services again.  They discovered that I had a gastro-intestinal infection and immediately began treatment. Within 24 hours, my husband and son were cleared to stay with me in the hospital room.  Soon I was well and cleared to go home!

            When we finally made it home, I threw all of the opened formula away.  I hid the unopened boxes in a drawer in his nursery.  I sat down with Calvin and stared at him.  He was perfect, but after a week and a half of crazy, I felt like I had missed my moment.  Who was this “thing” looking back at me?  I went through nursing like it was a chore.  In secret, I told my husband that I didn’t bond with him the way I was supposed to at the hospital, and I thought I would never feel close to him the way I should.  In preparation for having a baby, I had researched and learned ALL about what to do if your baby wouldn’t latch.  I was not prepared for what to do if your baby DID latch, but you would rather have your husband feed him a bottle.  Fortunately, my husband kept encouraging me to continue nursing.

            After a few weeks of milk going everywhere, Calvin losing his latch constantly, and listening to him gulp loudly, I finally realized that I had an overproduction of milk.  I sought advice from a lactation consultant who encouraged me to try nursing leaning back or lying down.  It was then that I realized the JOY that is the side-lying nursing position.  Calvin loved it!  I loved it!  And bonus: my forceful letdown stopped drowning my kid! 

            Now that we had conquered breast feeding, it occurred to me: I could sleep way more if I kept Calvin in the bed with us.  We tried a co-sleeper, but he preferred to be on my arm. I started sleeping skin-to-skin with him.  During the days at home alone, I would wrap him skin-to-skin in a Moby wrap my friend bought for me. Before I knew it, nursing started feeling different to me.  I actually looked forward to my moments nursing him.  I started reaching out to members of online communities about my experiences with baby-wearing and nursing.  In the communities, I read breastfeeding stories, and saw photos of other moms nursing.  I felt so empowered.  I felt like I had finally been invited to be a part of a secret mom club where it was okay to be real, and it was okay share the good, bad, and ugly.

            At my first NDWM playdate, I looked around the room at all of the mommas wearing their babies and smiled.  Mixed in among the crowd, I saw nursing mothers sitting, talking, and proudly nursing their babies—uncovered.  Open nursing, which only a few months before had caused me such shame, now seemed to me nothing short of perfect.  I felt silly to have packed a bottle for Calvin to drink, and then sad that he wasn’t hungry and I wouldn’t be able to nurse him there!  Since then, I have found confidence in breastfeeding.  I want all mothers to feel what I felt that day in a room full of nursing Mommies.  I stopped trying to hide under blankets or covers in public, and I stopped packing bottles.  Breastfeeding brought me closer to my baby boy, and the journey helped me bond to him.  I thought I had missed the opportunity for the perfect breastfeeding and bonding experience, but it turns out… my journey was just delayed a little!

Casey and sons ~ tough decisions

I have been a mom for almost exactly 7 years.  It is the single greatest thing in my life.  When my first son, Troy, was born 7 years ago, I had planned on breastfeeding him for at least a year.  I had a very typical hospital experience with breastfeeding.  Hospital pediatricians and nursery staff pushed formula, bottles, and pacifiers since my “milk hadn’t come in yet” in the first 2 days.  At the time, I had very little support, but I made it through and had an abundant supply.  When my son was 3 months old, I suffered a windfall of stress that caused my overabundance of milk to dry up almost completely.  I was forced to supplement with formula while I worked to get my supply back up, but my son began to reject the breast and I could no longer nurse him.  I had little-to-no support regarding my breastfeeding, so there was no encouragement to work to get my son back onto the breast.  I was able to maintain nighttime nursing, though I produced nothing.  It was a small comfort and I continued until he was 9 months old.  For years I beat myself up over my perceived failure.  I would cuddle my boy to my chest and imagine him as a suckling infant.  I would hold him and weep.

Since then, I have learned that I have been suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder for most of my life.  I had been misdiagnosed years earlier with bipolar disorder, which never really matched up to my symptoms.  I also deal with clinical depression that lurks in the background waiting to come out when it isn’t at the forefront of my life.  I began medication 4 years ago paired with regular counseling with the greatest counselor I could ever ask for and my life has been so much better. 

Because my husband and I both lack insurance benefits through employers, we had to purchase private insurance almost immediately after our first son was born.  At the time, private insurance in Texas didn’t cover maternity in any available plans.  We thought our dreams of having another child were gone and we embraced the probability that our first would be our only.  What an “only” he would be – the joy of my life. 

When the A.C.A. was launched and all insurance had to provide maternity coverage, we found our opportunity.  Better insurance with maternity coverage!  We could have another child and give our first the sibling he so desperately wanted.  Almost immediately we were blessed with another pregnancy and I stopped taking my medication.  I told my husband that, this time, I wouldn’t let anything get in my way of breastfeeding our child.  He or she would be nursed by me exclusively until a year old at which time I would definitely need to get back onto my medication.  By the time our son Alex was born, pretty much everyone I knew was aware of my intent to breastfeed for the first year. 

This time around was so different.  I had much more support, especially from my husband.  I had the same experience at the hospital with regards to breastfeeding, but my husband decided to stand up and serve as my voice.  He demanded the nurses allow me to breastfeed and to help me get my milk to come in (which actually shouldn’t even happen for the first several days).  My very gentle, unassuming husband became the big bear he resembles in stature and made sure I was not bullied this time.  Before I was discharged on the third day, my milk came in.  Boy did it come in!  I was elated to have another strong supply to give to my child.

I became active on Facebook in the breastfeeding communities and learned about human milk donation.  I felt this was a perfect way for me to give back while I don’t have free time to donate.  I work and go to school from home, so I sat down and pumped between feedings.  I would pump and nurse during meetings, while testing software code, or while chatting with my team.  After the first 2 months, I made it over that tough hump that all of us nursing mothers are familiar with.  The phase where you just feel like a host.  A really, really exhausted host.  But I made it!  I made it and breastfeeding was so easy after that.  My Alex was growing to be big and strong, just like his daddy.  Everything was going so well.  I felt I was going to meet my one year goal.

In all honesty, I think I knew that I wasn’t going to make it.  I had already been off my medication for over a year and, although I survived without it amazingly well, I was slipping.  With so much already on my plate, adding an infant to the mix proved to be incredibly difficult.  Even for me, a woman who is known for taking on a billion things and actually doing them all well.  I began to find myself stuck in my own head, living in a fog.  I was yelling at the people in my home, whether they deserved it or not.  I lost my desire to yell at anyone when Troy was born, so this was more than troubling.  The patience I had gained through Troy’s entrance into my world vanished.  I couldn’t force myself to smile or be happy anymore.  I wanted to be so badly, but I just couldn’t.  That day, which was Alex’s 7 month birthday, I broke down and admitted to my husband what I was feeling and reluctantly accepted that I would have to stop breastfeeding.  The decision was made harder by the fact that I had a tubal ligation and will never nurse another child again.  The next day, I saw my counselor and we began a plan.

I am currently planning the weaning and introducing some formula to my son.  I am taking supplements and attempting to pump as much as I can so that I can at least keep some breastmilk in his diet for as long as possible.  It was very difficult to admit my need, but I know that a happy, healthy momma makes a happy, healthy baby (and husband and child).  I’m sure I’ll still cry.  I’m sure I will still wish I could put Alex to my breast while we sleep at night.  I may even experience phantom letdown and relish the feeling.  I’ll look down at him snuggled at my breast and flashback to the times when he was my little nursling.

This time was different and I demand of myself to continue to make it different.  This time I pledge to not beat myself up over not meeting my goal.  Instead, I am changing my goal from “breastfeeding for a full year” to “breastfeeding as long as I possibly can.”  I have met my goal.  And thanks to Allison, I will have gorgeous pictures through which to commemorate it. 

I know that I am not alone.  I know that there are so many of us mothers who beat ourselves up for perceived failures.  We encourage one another and say, “You didn’t fail at anything.  You’re amazing.”  Yet, we rarely will admit the same to ourselves.  We need to ban together and change that.  We are worth our own personal encouragement.  We are mothers, regardless of the obstacles we face, regardless of how we feed our children.  It is a rare mother who doesn’t think of her children in every little thing she does.  We are all great mothers and I know our children will never say to us, “Mom, why did you stop breastfeeding me at 8 months old?”  The way I am raising my boys - with endless empathy, compassion, and love - that thought will never come into their minds.  They will know that every breath I’ve taken is for them.  And they will know they are loved.