Christina is a freelance writer and mother of three. She blogs about her adventures and misadventures in motherhood at www.mamaneena.com
I suppose I could say my breasts are duds. I suppose that I could act bitter about the fact that they didn’t do their job. I could easily carry guilt that, in a time when anyone and everyone feels your breasts are their business, I didn’t breastfeed my children. Sure, I gave it a shot. But, I can honestly admit that I didn’t give it a commitment.
My first child was born in 2004. I entered motherhood with every intention of doing it naturally, with homemade baby food and breast milk for at least a year. I wanted to be an attachment parenting advocate and do what all the latest research said was best. I was new, confused, and overwhelmed. I spent the first three weeks of my baby’s life living in the bedroom trying to understand and establish a routine. I would breastfeed, pump, change the baby, play with the baby, put the baby to sleep, and start the whole process over. I kept wondering if breastfeeding meant that this would be my life for the next year. I didn’t realize there were resources available for nursing mothers and had no real knowledge to pull from. My breasts were enormous and I was afraid that, on top of everything else, I was suffocating my baby. So, I gave up.
My son was born 15 months later and just 11 months after I underwent a breast reduction. I had dealt with the chronic back pain for too long. Though the surgeon assured me that they would do their best to preserve the milk ducts, I knew there was a risk involved. But, I tried. I tried breastfeeding my new son while attempting to chase after my toddler, unpack our new house, and handle a husband that was traveling constantly. I tried to breastfeed through the colic, the reflux, the lack of sleep, and the lack of milk production. But, I couldn’t. So, I gave up again.
I figured by my third child in 2007 that I should just head straight to frmula. But, I wanted to give it one last shot. I contacted a lactation consultant and did a good bit of research on breastfeeding after a breast reduction. I pulled back out the top of the line breast pump and went in with realistic expectations. But, my expectations didn’t include nipples that were completely raw and bloody from pumping constantly and producing only drops. My expectations did not include the sad, heartbreaking cries of a hungry baby who wanted nothing more that to suckle and have her belly filled. My expectations didn’t include guilt this time around. So, for the last time, I gave up.
I don’t want to remember the first months of my children’s lives with a bunch of ‘If only I had…” statements. It has taken a lot of time, a bit of soul searching, and some genuine acceptance to come to terms with my breastfeeding experiences. I don’t feel my children are any less loved or nurtured or healthy because I chose a different route. While I certainly admire those that can and do breastfeed exclusively, I want to hug those that can’t or don’t. I want the stigma to be removed for those that don’t breastfeed and I want us all to just be glad that, through whatever circumstances, we are actually able to feed our children.
Christina, this post made me want to hug you! I'm so sorry you didn't get to nurse your babies. I think that the health system and our society failed you. There was no one to train you in the skills you need, and as our last poster mentioned, books alone don't do it.
ReplyDeleteI, too, was unable to nurse. I had some longstanding hormonal issues which first made it difficult to conceive, then made it almost impossible to produce milk. I saw several lactation consultants, drank more water than humanly possible, took fenugreek, pumped, and nursed. My right breast had zero production, while my left breast only yielded at best 1/4 of an ounce. I watched my baby scream out of frustratioon, not realizing that he wasn't getting his needs met. When my baby was hospitalized at 2 weeks of age (kidney issues), I saw yet another LC (Children's Hospital is full of them and are extremely pro-breastfeeding). She finally told me that whatever my baby had gotten from me would benefit him, and that I needed to take better care of myself, as I was 2 weeks postpartum and in rough shape.
ReplyDeleteI was not prepared to formula feed. i had no idea about bottles, formula, or how to safely use them. Thank goodness I had formula samples in the house, and my mother, who also breastfed, showed me how to clean and properly use bittles. I felt horribly guilty for weeks as a result. I felt like I failed my baby and that I was somehow a bad mother. I was jealous of my family members and friends who could nurse.
I was finally able to move on once my baby was healthy, out of the hospital, and thriving on formula. I still gets pands of guilt at times. maybe my next baby will be able to nurse, maybe not. But now I know what to expect.
Thank you for sharing this wonderful post with us.
I'm so sorry that you didn't get the support you needed to help you! I had my mother there to tell me that breastfeeding gets easier, and an excellent support group to help me get through those rough first weeks, and that makes such a difference.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry for YOU, that you missed out on an experience you wanted to have. I think your babies did just fine. They got what they needed, which is a loving mother.
I'm so glad you've been able to come to terms with your experiences! I have no doubt that your children are loved and cared for and have a great mom. Being unable to breastfeed or even just giving up trying when it feels too difficult is nothing to feel guilt about. And it says nothing about how wonderful you are as a mother. Thanks for sharing your story.
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