Also at this time, I feel the need to CELEBRATE! Celebrate a successful breastfeeding relationship! I can join the ranks of mothers who never gave their baby formula! As the one year mark approaches (all too quickly, I might add), I realize that I'm not going to be ready to give up this special bond when my baby turns one. And why should I? I've worked hard to get this far!
When I was pregnant, people would ask me if I planned to breast feed. I thought this was the stupidest question ever! I mean why wouldn't I? It's best for the baby, and it's good for me. I mean, duh! What no one bothered to inform me was that it's hard. Not that I would have listened anyway. I would have just assumed that they weren't as strong as me- just being honest here. I had a pretty easy pregnancy so I felt that's how everything was going to be. Yea, I was probably a little cocky.
So imagine my surprise when my little one came out and I realized that "one of the most natural things in the world" could also be one of the hardest. And most painful. And no, I'm not talking about labor. That was a breeze... with a little help from my friend "epidural" that is.
The day after we brought him home from the hospital was Easter Sunday. We went to my parents' house to celebrate. Everything was fine- with the exception of two massive boulders attached to my body steadily growing more humongous as the day dragged on. By the time I got home, I knew it was time to do whatever I could think of to try and relieve the engorgement. I pulled out the pump and managed to express a respectable ounce and a half of milk and felt a little better... until baby began to fuss. Uh oh... he was hungry. I couldn't do it. I was still so engorged. My nipples were so sore from earlier feedings and from the pumping. But. baby. needed. food. What a huge responsibility I was faced with. It was my responsibility , my burden alone, to keep this infant nourished. It was overwhelming. I cried... how could I give my baby what he needed without causing myself more pain? I had milk, but I couldn't just put it in a bottle and risk nipple confusion. I needed him to work for the milk so he wouldn't get lazy and refuse the breast. I found a medicine dropper. I filled it up with the liquid gold... truly as precious as gold at that moment, and stuck my cleaned finger in LO's mouth and waited for him to suck. As he did, I dropped milk into the corner of his mouth. And balled.
Seeing me in that state, my poor husband knew he had to do something. He'd had about as much experience with crying women as with 3 day old babies... basically none. So he called my mom. It was the right decision. With her by my side, I found the strength to put the baby back on the breast. She kept the baby that night, bringing him to me when it was time to eat. World end-er avoided!
But that wasn't simply the end. I dreaded feedings. Holding that precious being in my arms, I would do anything for him... ANYTHING! But did he have to eat so often? Every feeding was a fight... well several fights really. I fought with myself to bite my tongue and not curse when he latched on. It felt like fire burning my flesh rather than an infants gentle suckling. I fought with him to get him to open his mouth, to get him to open his mouth wide enough, to get him to open his mouth at the right time. I fought with him to stay latched on! Looking back on the way he fussed at the breast, I'm quite confident he had some reflux issues making it difficult for him to stay latched on, let alone relax. So every time he would come off the breast, we had to start the whole song and dance all over again. The lactation consultant and pediatrian would say, "if it hurts, get him off and try it again." Easier said then done!
I'm not sure at what point the normal "latch on" pain became a yeast infection. But with him yanking back on my nipple, it's little surprise that along with the cracking, came a nasty little infection. With the help of a prescription from my dr and some lanolin, I healed, slowly but surely. He started getting gas drops with every feeding to help with the reflux issues. It got easier and easier. And finally it became enjoyable.
People suggested at several times that I may want to go ahead and start him on formula to make my life easier. My thought was always, "Why? We just got good at this." So I had to pump a little when I went back to work? I would do anything for him- Including suffering through the inconvenience of pumping.
10 months and 2 teeth later, why stop? We just got good at this! I'm so glad that I was so stinkin' stubborn and refused to give up even when my husband, as well meaning as he was, was telling me that I should just give him a bottle. My baby boy is perfect! He has never had an illness that lasted long enough or was severe enough to warrant a doctor's visit. Why? Breast Milk! He's walking like a pro at 10 months. Why? Breast Milk! Ok... maybe he'd be walking anyway, but truly, breast milk has contributed to growing a very strong and healthy boy and I have no regrets.
So ahead for us, we're looking at about 2 more months of pumping. But I think day time feedings will become cows' milk feedings- I'm tired of pumping . But we'll continue to breast feed at night as long as the two of us are still interested in doing so. That way he continues to receive of the amazing blessings from breast milk. And to think my answer in the hospital when people asked me how long I planned to breast feed was six months. I guess I showed myself!
YOU GO GIRL!!! I knew you could do it!
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