The night of the day of his birth I still wasn't allowed to go see my son. My husband visited him and brought me back pictures and the news that Caiden's doctor wanted me to start pumping. During my pregnancy I had absolutely no intention of breastfeeding. It wasn't something that appealed to me. It wasn't something that I felt I had to do. It was a choice I made with absolutely no knowledge of what the future would bring.
I was in the hospital a total of six days. The morning of the 4th day, the day after his birth, the day I would finally be able to go see him, a lactation consultant came to my room. She explained that Caiden's doctor really pushed for all moms to breastfeed. Due to his prematurity it was the best gift I could give him. So, she fitted me for a pump, explained how to use it and left as quickly as she'd come.
I was nervous, but I did it anyway.
My first trip to the NICU I carried with me two full bottles of pumped milk (colostrum). I was proud of myself. I had done something I never thought I would do and I had an amazingly strong supply. My son would not be going hungry. I wouldn't have to buy formula.
As the days wore on pumping became a habit. Every three hours on the dot I turned on my pump and watched as liquid gold filled up the bottles. For something that seemed so unimportant in the beginning it soon consumed me. I worried about how much I was producing, why one side did better than the other, would he be able to breastfeed.. His doctor and nurses were ecstatic over my supply. So many moms struggle, especially pumping to produce enough, and I could have fed every baby in that NICU.
About a week before his discharge we tried breastfeeding. He was pretty good at it, but needed the help of a nipple shield. Not a big deal I was told, most preemies needed one and could outgrow it. I didn't love the experience. It was hard to position his tiny body against mine and frustrating that while I was feeding him on one side, the other was leaking all over me.
Eventually though he was cleared for discharge and we were sent home to do things on our own. I was as equally excited as I was nervous. Once we got home Caiden's interest in breastfeeding quickly dwindled. We had to supplement with a high calorie formula twice a day to help him gain weight quickly, so we had no choice but to give him bottles. It made teaching him very difficult. Eventually after a few weeks of struggling, lots of screaming and crying I gave up and started exclusively pumping again. He would still be getting my breastmilk, just not directly from me.
I loathed pumping. Every three hours I had to thaw milk, feed and change Caiden, pump, package and freeze it. The entire process took about an hour sometimes longer. Often at night I would wake and by the time I was done I only had an hour until I would have to wake up and do it all again. It was exhausting and uncomfortable. Where breastfeeding mothers can change positions and feed laying down, often sleeping through their child eating, I could only pump in one position: sitting up, awake and uncomfortable. As many times as I tried I was never able to feed Caiden and pump at the same time.
I carried on like this for 6 1/2 months before realizing I couldn't do it any longer. I was extremely fatigued and my once amazing supply was dwindling. I had gotten in the mindset that I had plenty stored, it wasn't going to hurt if I pushed back a pump session an hour. An hour became two and then three and eventually I just stopped caring whether or not I pumped. I wasn't being the best mother I could be to my son because I was tied to my pump five hours a day. There were too many times I sat with him in a bouncy chair next to me while I pumped, unable to hold him or play with him or help him along with his development. I couldn't take it.
After I stopped pumping I was dramatically happier. I had more patience, was getting more sleep, and had more time to spend with my son. I didn't regret quitting. The difference was night and day.
It would only be a few months though until I started to regret it.
It took me a while before I understood exactly why I regretted stopping. There's so much pressure to do what's best and right. "Breast is best" and "formula is evil". I feel that the "breast is best" campaign is a dig at the teenage girls who don't try to breastfeed and go straight to WIC for formula. While I'm not saying I support that or not, it is a huge insult to those of us who struggled to breastfeed.
I admit I gave up pumping, I could have gone longer but for my sanity I had to quit. We never managed to breastfeed the "right" way but that doesn't make me a bad mother. Circumstances stacked the odds against us and in favor of other mothers. My son had to be on a high calorie formula to gain weight. That doesn't make me a bad mother. It was a necessity. The time he was on it, I had more than enough milk to make up those feeds, but he needed the added calories my milk didn't have. That formula isn't evil, it helps an untold number of babies who struggle with low body weight.
I started thinking that if it wasn't for the doctors and medicine around today, my son and I wouldn't be here. If it weren't for pumps and formula he wouldn't be alive. Formula is a saving grace for all the mothers out there who tried but didn't have it in their cards to be able to breastfeed for 3 months, 6 months, a year.. Think of all the children who wouldn't be alive without formula because their mother had a low supply, or a health condition that made it near impossible, or a premature child who's head was smaller than its mothers breast. I don't think a woman can be unsuccessful at breastfeeding as long as she tries. If she's given her child even a milliliter of breastmilk she's done something amazing.
Every mother should be proud of what they've accomplished. We should congratulate each other on trying when so many can't make it to their goal, not insult and brag when we may not know the story behind why they give their child formula. A fed baby is a happy baby.
I'll try this again.. I remember the stress about breastfeeding, which led to crying and my depression. Then I remember making the decision to quit and the relief, guilt and more depression that followed. I wanted to write about a post about breastfeeding, and what I've learned from the experience and other mommas experience. I think the "breast is best" campaign in its zeal to support and encourage also induces guilt and shame...
ReplyDeleteGreat post momma, you're an awesome writer... :)
Thanks Lisseth! I would definitely write that post! Writing this made me realize I still had qualms over my decision to quit, knowing I was very capable of going further and yet choosing not to. It definitely helped me come to terms with my decision, I quit for a good reason, and I should be proud of what I did not be upset about what I didn't. He's as happy as he was before I quit, he obviously hasn't noticed, but I'm a better mother to him now.
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