Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding, Pumping....Oh My!
One thing that was very apparent throughout my entire pregnancy and beyond was the importance of breastfeeding. It was a question asked at every appointment and even by those near and dear.
“Do you plan on breastfeeding?”
That question became more dreaded than “You’ve been together so long, when are you having kids?”
I was in the headspace of wanting to do whatever was best for my child. I did want to breastfeed her and it was something that became even more important as I learned of all the benefits to breastmilk and breastfeeding for both me and my baby. I took a breastfeeding class at the hospital where I learned all the techniques and what to do which I must say gave me a false sense of confidence.
I thought “This is easy, I got this!”
Oh how wrong I was. From the day my daughter was born we had difficulty. Apparently my nipples are flat so she had a hard time latching. Imagine just having a baby, and if you read my 2 previous posts you already know how that went, and having a nurse practically pulling at your nipples to get them erect and shoving them into your crying baby’s mouth. By the time I was discharged modesty had gone out the window. It was tough but the advice was to keep trying. I was even brought a breast pump to help pull my nipples out before feedings.
For two and a half days I got conflicting advice from each nurse assigned to me while I tried and tried and failed at breastfeeding my baby. Note to self, each nurse has techniques they think might help and trying each one and failing miserably does not help your confidence or make you feel like you’re not the worlds most horrible mom for not being able to do what nature has instilled in you to do. The entire stay at the hospital my baby was fed by me pumping all that colostrum and feeding her through a syringe while still trying to breastfeed like I was advised.
Two lactation consultants visited me. Both of them giving me yet more techniques to try to get her to latch. The only common theme from all the advise from hospital staff was needed to get my nipples erect for her to latch on and to keep trying. Who knew breastfeeding could be so emotional. One lactation consultant even introduced us to a nipple shield. Which worked to get her to latch on somewhat but I kept having to deposit as it came undone from my breast. In the end I spent more time fixing the nipple shield that feeding the baby.
When everyone around you is so focused on breastfeeding your baby because that is the right way and it’s not working out and your hormones are already all over the place I wasn’t surprised by the emotional breakdown that came as I sat in a hospital bed with my boob out trying to feed my daughter as she is screaming her little lungs out. She was hungry, I was frustrated and my husband is giving me funny looks since the doctors told him to look out for if I start to lose my mind which could be a sign of postpartum depression.
I tried. Believe me when I say I tried. Even when we got home I tried. The whole time feeling like a failure because I could not succeed at the one thing I was born to do. The only way my kid would eat is by feeding her through that damn syringe which we eventually graduated to a bottle. I pumped my breastmilk and put it in a bottle and that is how she ate. I still tried and still felt like shit.
I asked our pediatrician what I should do and she was the first person who told me as long as the baby was getting the breastmilk it didn’t really matter how she was getting the breastmilk. I can only do what I can do. I still felt crappy about and was still trying.
Tell me what is a woman to do when her baby is hungry and you are trying to breastfeed her but she just keep crying because she is hungry and does not give a crap about latching on? She just wants her milk and she wants it now. My motherly instincts kicked in after a few weeks and it suddenly became about what was best for my baby. What was best for her was for her to eat. I made peace with not being able to breastfeed and became the mom who exclusively pumped and fed her through a bottle. Things were looking up. I didn’t feel like as much of a failure and she was getting her milk without the dramatics and we were happy. For now at least.
“Do you plan on breastfeeding?”
That question became more dreaded than “You’ve been together so long, when are you having kids?”
I was in the headspace of wanting to do whatever was best for my child. I did want to breastfeed her and it was something that became even more important as I learned of all the benefits to breastmilk and breastfeeding for both me and my baby. I took a breastfeeding class at the hospital where I learned all the techniques and what to do which I must say gave me a false sense of confidence.
I thought “This is easy, I got this!”
Oh how wrong I was. From the day my daughter was born we had difficulty. Apparently my nipples are flat so she had a hard time latching. Imagine just having a baby, and if you read my 2 previous posts you already know how that went, and having a nurse practically pulling at your nipples to get them erect and shoving them into your crying baby’s mouth. By the time I was discharged modesty had gone out the window. It was tough but the advice was to keep trying. I was even brought a breast pump to help pull my nipples out before feedings.
For two and a half days I got conflicting advice from each nurse assigned to me while I tried and tried and failed at breastfeeding my baby. Note to self, each nurse has techniques they think might help and trying each one and failing miserably does not help your confidence or make you feel like you’re not the worlds most horrible mom for not being able to do what nature has instilled in you to do. The entire stay at the hospital my baby was fed by me pumping all that colostrum and feeding her through a syringe while still trying to breastfeed like I was advised.
Two lactation consultants visited me. Both of them giving me yet more techniques to try to get her to latch. The only common theme from all the advise from hospital staff was needed to get my nipples erect for her to latch on and to keep trying. Who knew breastfeeding could be so emotional. One lactation consultant even introduced us to a nipple shield. Which worked to get her to latch on somewhat but I kept having to deposit as it came undone from my breast. In the end I spent more time fixing the nipple shield that feeding the baby.
When everyone around you is so focused on breastfeeding your baby because that is the right way and it’s not working out and your hormones are already all over the place I wasn’t surprised by the emotional breakdown that came as I sat in a hospital bed with my boob out trying to feed my daughter as she is screaming her little lungs out. She was hungry, I was frustrated and my husband is giving me funny looks since the doctors told him to look out for if I start to lose my mind which could be a sign of postpartum depression.
I tried. Believe me when I say I tried. Even when we got home I tried. The whole time feeling like a failure because I could not succeed at the one thing I was born to do. The only way my kid would eat is by feeding her through that damn syringe which we eventually graduated to a bottle. I pumped my breastmilk and put it in a bottle and that is how she ate. I still tried and still felt like shit.
I asked our pediatrician what I should do and she was the first person who told me as long as the baby was getting the breastmilk it didn’t really matter how she was getting the breastmilk. I can only do what I can do. I still felt crappy about and was still trying.
Tell me what is a woman to do when her baby is hungry and you are trying to breastfeed her but she just keep crying because she is hungry and does not give a crap about latching on? She just wants her milk and she wants it now. My motherly instincts kicked in after a few weeks and it suddenly became about what was best for my baby. What was best for her was for her to eat. I made peace with not being able to breastfeed and became the mom who exclusively pumped and fed her through a bottle. Things were looking up. I didn’t feel like as much of a failure and she was getting her milk without the dramatics and we were happy. For now at least.
Comments
Post a Comment