Shortly after Ollie came into the world, I began what I thought was going to be the easy task of feeding my baby. It went well for all of about 10 minutes until things took a turn for the worse and went downhill! . I think she was eager enough but I just don't have the most... ahem... how do I put it... to reference Seth in the movie Superbad: My nipples just aren't like baby toes... if you catch my drift (Oh my gosh, did I really just type that?!). Ollie just couldn't latch on well due to not so "prominent" nipples. So I pumped with the pump the hospital provided (which I liken to modern-day milk dairy machinery). After I had a breast reduction at age 16, I was told I would not be able to breast feed due to severed milk ducts. They were wrong! I had milk, and lots of it!
So then began my daily dates with the lactation consultants at Kennestone who tried so may things- squeezing, kneading, pinching, squishing, rolling with a rolling pin (ok, not really) but nothing worked well. (All this while I had a steady stream of visitors!) They weighed Ollie before and after each feeding but she would still only get a very small amount of milk. So I continued to try with Ollie, and pumped between feedings. So I pretty much did nothing but express milk in some way, shape, or form for 48 hours straight. I took the hospital's dairy pump home with me and kept the same routine at home. Spending SO much time trying to get Ollie to latch on, pump in between, on top of the other things: sleep deprivation, post-partum depression, visitors, oh yeah- I have to take care of myself too. It was completely exhausting. But I was so determined to breast feed.
Then I made the mistake of consulting La Leche League. Those women I spoke with made me feel like I would be a complete failure and bad mother if I did not give my child breast milk. When I told one of them that I was having to supplement with formula, I heard an audible gasp through the phone. It only made me even more determined to "be a good mom" and make sure Ollie got breast milk.
One night Ollie and I were having a marathon of a feeding session. I spent an hour and a half trying to feed her. She was crying out of frustration. I was crying out of frustration . Matt came in to check on us and noticed that Ollie had clawed a hole in my skin under my nipple because she was "fighting" so hard. I hadn't even noticed. I was too busy being stupid: "I'm a bad mom because I can't breast feed my child properly! She is going to have development problems, health problems, ADD, immune system problems, etc. etc.!" So I finally resolved to pump exclusively. I had plenty of milk, it just needed to get out! That took a huge strain off both Ollie and I. Plus other people were able to feed Ollie!
One night when Ollie was about a week old, one of my mom's friends came to visit and really talked sense into me about the whole situation. (Thank you Anne Smith, if you read this!) We talked about how when I was little, formula was the thing to do. Just about everyone was fed that way. She also told me about her daughter who struggled with breast feeding her baby and made the decision to stop. The one thing she said that struck a bell was: "Ollie will still grow and be healthy, no matter what you feed her." And she's absolutely right! I was so stupid to let idealistic breast feeding fanatics make me feel inferior because I had to feed my baby formula!
It was all going well until I started to get a fever and noticed the huge hole Ollie made in my boob was starting to look purple despite my at-home first aid. I went to the OB/GYN and they told me the wound was infected. I tried to be careful with where I placed the pump's cup things but I was re-opening the wound every time I pumped. (gross, I know. But I warned you!) The doctor told me I would have to stop pumping, which meant to stop breast feeding altogether. My mom and I stopped by Publix for formula and cabbage on the way home. I had one last good cry, and resolved to be done with all of the heartache. Then I put the cold cabbage leaves in my bra and let my milk dry up.
So that was my battle with breastfeeding. Looking back, I would have done things a lot differently, so that's what I plan on doing the 2nd time around! I may be a crazy person, but I am going to try again. Luckily, this time, I have a friend from middle and high school, who I have reconnected with on Facebook, who is a lactation consultant. She has generously offered to give me a private breast feeding class during my last trimester and will make home visits after the baby comes! She also told me that usually things are easier the second time around-- Praise the Lord. Also, if there are any "latch on" problems, etc. I will immediately resolve to exclusively pump. And if that doesn't work, I will have absolutely no inhibitions to give him or her formula. I will do it with a smile, actually.
I have to say a big thank you to Matt, and my poor Mom and Dad who had to live with my during this time. My dad knows more about lactating now than he ever needed or wanted to know! But they were all so patient with me and supportive. Mom must have made 50 trips to Babies-R-Us for different size nipple shields, pump tubing, nipple cream, etc. And my Dad was so empathetic. He would bring me ice packs and even offered to wash the pump parts and bottles after I pumped in the middle of the night so I could go back to sleep sooner. How sweet! (But I didn't let him do it. The thought of my Dad having to touch my breast milk absolutely mortifies me!) And of course, my always wonderful husband Matt who encouraged me to follow my motherly instinct and supported every decision I made. It sometimes take a village to feed a baby.
These are the ONLY photos we have of Ollie being fed! Probably because 99% of the time I am the one taking photos, and I was doing most of the feedings because Matt was in school. Oh well, they are still pretty cute!
yum yum!
Still not the cleanest eater!
Matt and his Dad feeding Ollie during our walk on the Silver Comet Trail.
