My Life in Letters: April 2014

Why'd you lie?

I'm still nursing, and while it has become much easier, it was NOT EASY OR REWARDING AT FIRST.

My little one took two months to be able to successfully latch. I had terrible engorgement followed by mastitis and thrush and nipples that felt like they were being used as a pin cushion. Since she couldn't latch, I had to pump. I was told to pump both breasts every hour, all day and night, to keep my supply up.

A breast pump is similar to a medieval torture device, with the difference being it is electrically charged. It also makes noises that sounded to me an awful lot like someone chanting "you suck" over and over at 3 a.m.

I'd bring baby J to get weighed, and hold back tears as they would tell me she was too small. I'd curse as I tried to get her to nurse, shoving my sore boob in her mouth as she screamed and cried too. I'd feel a dichotomy of relief and grief when she'd gratefully, voraciously take a bottle of my breastmilk from her daddy while I would excuse myself to get bullied by the pump again.

But because she wasn't nursing, my supply waned. Even my around the clock pumping, mothers milk tea, massage, showers and nipple ointment wouldn't help. She screamed out of hunger, and I was constantly terrified of running out of milk. I'd try to limit her intake to space it out, trying to give myself a chance to reload. I was only ever one bottle ahead of her, and when the growth spurts came, I couldn't keep up. She would drink every drop in the bottles and scream for more. I was failing. My husband and father begged me to give her formula, but I was scared that she'd have a bad reaction to it. She barely weighed five pounds... I was terrified she'd lose weight if she got sick.

I saw the lactation consultant many times, called and texted her with my concerns. She practically begged me not to give up, and I pretty much hated her for it.

Finally, one night at 2 a.m. I tearfully woke up my husband and asked him to come downstairs with me. I popped open a canister of formula and cried as I prepared two ounces for my screaming girl. I sniffed it- it smelled awful. I hesitated, feeling like a failure, worried she'd break out in a rash, or vomit. I made James give her the bottle as I watched, holding my breath.

She gratefully drank it down in a matter of minutes... And then it happened. She stopped crying. Sure, she pooped something fierce about ten minutes later, but then she slept. For four glorious hours, she slept-- the longest stretch she'd ever gone. The sleep magic didn't last just then, but she wasn't hungry.

Supplementing with formula wasn't my first choice, but it took so much pressure off of me. Even so, I was ready to quit breastfeeding so many times! I was in this cycle of pumping and then not having enough milk to nurse, so giving a bottle, then pumping to relieve the new letdown. I was frustrated. I read portions of a book called "Making More Milk." It helped a bit but I kept waiting for this "joyful" part of breastfeeding I kept hearing about. There was no joy in Mudville this day.

I then discovered I had something called Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex, which basically means that every time I'd have a "let-down" of my milk I'd also have a brief panic/anxiety attack. At first I didn't know it was at all related to breastfeeding, but I finally made the connection and through research and my lactation consultant I realized it was an involuntary reflex. I would suddenly feel dizzy and sick and anxious and guilty while breastfeeding or pumping. Although it didn't go away, at least knowing it was an involuntary physical reaction to the let-down reflex helped me get through those moments much easier than before.

Even despite all of the previous fun, I didn't give up. J started latching better, and I set aside a full week to work on feeding and naps. That week turned into two, and by three months in, I was nearly exclusively breastfeeding-- very rarely pumping and only about 6 oz. of formula a week.

Now, I've learned to let her nurse as often and as long as she likes. I don't let myself get tempted to give her a bottle to give my nips a break because it will cause my supply to suffer. I also have decided that I will nurse when I go out in public... Covered up usually, yes, but I won't apologize for it. And in my home? I have begun nursing uncovered in front of most guests. The baby nurses better this way, and I just ask people to avert their eyes if it makes them uncomfortable. Would you like eating dinner with a blanket over your face and head? Me neither.

So now breastfeeding is much easier! I have not had to give the baby any formula in months. She is growing fine and she doesn't cry from hunger anymore. She's seen me and her dad through three or four bad viruses and hasn't gotten sick. She's an awesome latcher and nurser now. I am glad I stuck with it. And those joyful moments that previously evaded me? Once in a while, while she is nursing, baby J will look up at me and flash me a big gummy smile.

Believe it or not, it makes all of this worth it!

Now, ladies who told me that nursing was the best thing ever...

Did you forget about teething?!