I decided right from the beginning of my pregnancy that I would exclusively breastfeed my child. It's a natural, normal, cost effective and healthy (for baby and mom!) way to sustain and grow your baby. I mean, if it's a natural thing to do, it's easy, right?
WRONG. It ain't easy, it's not always pretty, and it can be quite painful. Seriously.
My Bean was born at 35 and a half weeks- a month earlier than her due date and about 10 days before full term. Technically, she is a preemie. She weighed in at 5 pounds .2 ounces- just enough NOT to go to the NICU automatically. I felt blessed.
As soon as she came out and was cleared, I had her placed on my chest, skin to skin. I read through all my various books, blogs, journals that she would inch her way to my breast and latch on to begin suckling and take in the colostrum- aka liquid gold. An hour after being born, she was blissfully comfortable not moving, keeping herself warm on me and certainly not breastfeeding. I tried to stay cool and not get frantic. My baby would eventually take to the boob- I was sure of it.
Long story short- it didn't quite go that way. My Bean sorta, kinda took the colostrum in the first few days of life, made her poopy diapers as was normal, but by her third day when we were checking out of the hospital, the doc said that she was looking a little yellow and that we had to keep an eye on her billirubin levels. In other words, Bean had a case of jaundice.
The next day we ended up back in the hospital so that she could get light therapy.
I can't begin to tell you the emotions I was going through. Not only did I have my baby early, now my little girl was sick. I didn't care that jaundice is a totally normal thing and a good percentage of babies have it. On top of being worried for my little girl, I was hormonal, tired and now my boobs started to swell.
You would think that a pediatric unit, who provided me with a medical grade breast pump would, knowing it was my first baby at least help me put the damn thing together. But they didn't and I pumped with pieces missing. So, here I am pumping, getting some milk (because I was producing just THAT much), but not enough to fully feed my baby- so she had to get some formula, which I'm still pissed about to this day. I'm so pissed about it, because I had more milk than she needed- all the freaking staff had to do was take 5 minutes to go through it all with me.
I requested a lactation consultant visit with me because I felt like I just wasn't getting it. And lo and behold, in front of the consultant, the Bean totally was doing it.
With a little more confidence, I was certain I could successfully breastfeed on my own.
Nope.
I tried and tried and cried and tried and cried some more. My husband was constantly supporting me and urging me to keep at it. Even calling my left breast "old faithful" because feeding seemed to work on that side. But my hormones and the expectations I set and wasn't meeting were really wearing on me.
But I couldn't give up. And I couldn't fathom letting my baby eat formula- I just couldn't.
And that's where my breast pump came into play.
I first borrowed one from my friend- despite being told it's not safe, and blah, blah, blah.... Totally fine- just sterilize everything and don't think about the fact that your friend's boob touched the same equipment! Ha!
I pumped and I pumped alot. I was up keeping with the recommended 8 feeds/pumps a day- getting up in the middle of the night at least twice a night to keep it going.
I pumped so much, and started freezing the milk. And then I kept pumping and then I ran out of freezer space- FAST. I bought a deep freezer just for my excess milk. And then I realized I just had more than Bean needed and found a mom who could use my milk for her own baby (and that's for another entry).
Fast forward to today. Almost 13 months to the day that my little bean was born and we have been breastfeeding and pumping exclusively. I'm happy to say that except for that hospital stint, she has never had any formula.
I'm about to stop pumping fully in the next week or two. Simply put, I've had enough. Pumping is another job. I lug the damn thing with me everyday to work. I have to get away from work for 30 minutes or so. I have to hook up the machine, wash the parts, store the expressed milk, remember to grab that milk at the end of the day and somehow keep my sanity. And in the last couple of weeks, I barely pump enough in one sitting for a snack for my girl. I'm just sooo over it.
But if I have to do it again, I will renew my vow to feed my baby the way nature intended. Of course with a little help from technology.
Let's rewind again. I mentioned earlier that it can be painful. Oh my God can breastfeeding be painful. Lanolin was/is my best friend- not only great for the nipple, but great for your lips! For some reason or another, my Bean's latch just was never right. Funny enough, just in the last few weeks, her latch has improved- just when I'm thinking we'll stop..... Oi. In the beginning, my nipples cracked and chafed. There was peeling and even a little blood. Just goes to show you how fucking determined I was to see this through. And after trying to feed directly from my breast, I would then sit down and pump. Again. And again. And again.
This was my cycle, up until recently. And maybe not so much with the blood loss. But I have been pumping at least 3-4 times a day for the last several months since I have come back to work. It's a commitment I never even considered or imagined was so involved- but it was something I just had to do.
I didn't even touch on all the high expectations I set for myself in terms of breastfeeding my child. And how in doing so, I probably made this experience more difficult than it needed to be.
Or how, because I told everyone that I was going to breastfeed, and I would be that mom, who would whip out her boob when baby was hungry, no matter what- that damn it, I was going to win this competition. Mind you, the only one I was ever competing with, was myself.
Whatever. I won this damn thing.
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