My Reality of Breastfeeding
Whilst pregnant, I would often get asked if we were going to breastfeed. By “we” I think they meant “me” and by breastfeed, I assume they meant nurse or pump. My answer would remain consistent, “We would like to, however only time will tell.” The amount of times I had to listen to, “breast is best”… my entire body would cringe. My mind was set on, “FED is BEST”.
I considered myself to be fortunate, fortunate enough to be surrounded by mothers who were vulnerably open with sharing their breastfeeding journey with me. I thought I had heard it all, the struggles, the pain, the round the clock cluster feeding but nothing truly prepares you for your own experience with this part of motherhood.
Before I knew it we were in the delivery room and the midwife asked what our preferred method of feeding was. Without any hesitation I yelled, “breastfeeding.” There it was on the white board, in bold, capital letters, “BF”. Axel came out and he didn’t latch properly. I could hear his tiny cry and immediately squeezed out some colostrum to keep him calm. It’s amazing how little they need at birth.
The lactation consultant (LC) came and assisted me with how to adjust Axel in order to feed him. I wasn’t comfortable. I started pumping there and then. She told me I would have better success with pumping or with use of formula. Honestly, I felt dishearten by her words. While I’m sure more assistance with learning to latching him after delivery would have been provided, we self discharged at 24hours, leaving little time for one on one sessions.
Upon coming home, we saw a LC at our pediatrician’s who was amazing. Her bubbly personality, kind words and confidence in me being able to nurse was everything I needed to get my mind in the right place. She taught me all the different holds and eventually we figured out what worked best for Axel and I. By day four, my breast were full, raw and painful. I remember being on the cusp of getting mastitis, I cried in agony as she massaged the lumps of milk of out me. No crying baby was louder than me in that pediatrician’s office. Even after a rough start, I wanted nothing more than to be that mum who fed her baby on demand, wherever it was needed. I wanted that picture perfect bond with my child. We tried the use of a nipple shield to help make this journey a little more pleasant, eventually we found the Medela shield helped the most providing a barrier between my skin and Axel’s latch. I had also purchased the boppy pillow, which is rated fantastic amongst other mums but the my breast friend pillow worked better for my body. It kept Axel at the optimum position and prevented me from leaning forwards and decreasing my chances of getting back pain. We started off with Lansiloh Lanolin nipple butter but that wasn’t doing the trick with dry bleeding nipples. Our LC provided us with a prescription compound which provided instant relief and healed me within days.
The first two weeks of motherhood were spent chasing the numbers on the scale to ensure my son was gaining weight. My goal at this point was to nurse/ pump for 6 weeks. I set milestones I thought were achievable rather than months and years.
To find my happy medium, I pumped in the mornings as that’s when I was at my fullest and required the comfort it provided. I continued to then nurse throughout the day. Still pumping and emptying my breasts after each feed. I’m certain this led to my body being fooled in the amount of milk required, therefore producing more. It worked in my favor as my freezer stash was certainly building up. I often laugh out loud at the memory of my husband saying he woke up to Pamela Anderson boobs and went to bed with Carmen Electra boobs… to help put this in perspective, pre-pregnancy and BF, I had small boobs, my Mary Kate and Ashley! Lol.
Just as I thought I was getting the hang of nursing, Axel was getting harder and harder to arouse during feeds. We would strip him down to just his diaper, turn the fan on and even splash water on him. This would break my heart a little every time. I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable or naked. I remember being so concerned with his intake. I would weigh him prior to every feeding and after just to calculate how much he had consumed. I used the Hatch Baby Grow Scale for this. I started pumping more. I weighed him pre and post feeds for every feed, including night feeds for four months. This is when I contemplated switching exclusively to pumping. It was a hard decision to make. I struggled with guilt for the weeks leading up to exclusively switching over. Mothers in forums would provide encouraging words to “keep trying”, “it gets better”, “hang in there, you’re both learning”. I felt so much pressure from society to nurse my own baby. How is this even possible? How was I giving people outside of my household the right to even linger in my thoughts like this!? How was I considering anyone else’s advice and yet not giving myself the grace that I needed?
After a long discussion with my husband, we came to the conclusion, I was at my happiest knowing how much he drank and by pumping and filling a bottle up, it showed me just what I needed. I saw a type of satisfaction, the milk drunk face with all the bottle feeds we provided and that was enough for me to realise that this decision was the right one for us. I unplugged the hatch baby grow scale and never looked back.
Truthfully, my breastfeeding journey wasn’t how I had imagined it nor was it as natural as I had dreamt of. Even whilst pumping, it came with some level of resentment towards my husband. I would be the one attached the wires and walls for hours, while I glanced over at him lounging on the sofa. I would have to wake up multiple times during the night with over soaked milk pads and the need to pump while he laid peacefully dreaming somewhere in la-la land. I envied him for being able to do all the things he desired without a second thought. On the other hand, I had to excuse myself from dinner parties and gatherings to sneak away and pump. I always had my eye on the clock to make sure I pumped on time. The fear of losing supply was terrifying. During this journey, I must have pumped in every room of our home, the car, friends homes, restaurants… anywhere it required. Not to mention the constant washing pumping parts, sterilizing every part. It felt like all I was doing was pumping, feeding, washing bottles and repeat! I had the Medela pump for pumping upstairs, the Spectra 2 for downstairs and the Willow Breast Pump whilst Axel napped and I could do chores like laundry or washing dishes. I know, talk about being extra!
This journey was exhausting and lonely. I often found myself wanting to quit, to make my life easier by giving him formula. After all, the end goal was to ensure his stomach was full and we had a thriving little boy. It took what felt like forever to reach a place with a happy dynamics that worked for me mentally and physically. With time I started pumping less, after 6 months of age Axel didn’t require any night feeds so that session was phased out. The road was finally looking clear without any bumps ahead. I’m happy to report, even with all the tears, frustrations, resentment and certainly a shaky start, my goal of six weeks turned to twelve weeks, which turned to six months and eventually a year.
In short, everyones journey is different. Whether you nurse, pump or use formula, a FED baby is BEST. A mothers mental health is far more important. Do whatever works for you and your family. If you’ve stumbled on this post, during the dark hours of BF or pumping, know that this is your journey mama. Your baby will love you regardless of how or what they were fed. You won’t get that gold medal for suffering in silence or making numerous sacrifices to meet societies expectations. You won’t get the first year of motherhood back so make it one that brings you peace.
Happy World Breastfeeding Week! X