I would imagine that most women (pregnant, not pregnant, new mother or not) at some point in her life has thought about feeding a baby of her own. This is a topic that everyone seems to have pretty strong feelings on. Throughout my life, whenever I would think about having a baby I always “knew” I would choose to breastfeed him or her. After all, that’s the “best way” to do it, right? So, naturally that’s what I chose and was going to attempt.
I had all the necessary supplies and gadgets for breastfeeding success: gel cooling pads, breast pads, two different types of lanolin cream, hot/cold booby shaped gel packs, a breast pump, different pump parts in different sizes, nursing bras, nursing PJs, nursing tanks, storage bags, special bottles for collecting milk, a Boppy pillow, nursing cover, etc. etc.
I was armed and dangerous.
I also armed my mind with knowledge. I read books on breastfeeding, blogs, pediatric journals, and even attended a “Breastfeeding 101” class in Athens with a hippy lactation consultant. I was doing this. My mind was simply made up and no other possible option of feeding Bella entered my brain.
My sister had breastfed my niece (who turns two in December) and then started with formula when she went back to work. She gave me a handy formula travel container even though she knew I was planning on breastfeeding. I kind of scoffed at it and tossed it in a kitchen drawer. I didn’t need that. I was breastfeeding and I was staying at home, so I could dedicate all my time to ensuring that Bella got fed straight from the tap. The best way. Right? (There’s a bit of sarcasm here, hopefully you can pick up on it.)
I researched the famed “Golden Hour” and believed that was critical to establishing breastfeeding success, so…although I didn’t really have a birth plan, that was the main thing that I wanted to do to get off to the best start possible.
To make a long story short the “Golden Hour” just didn’t happen, as I was being rushed to the OR. Having the energy to breastfeed a newborn just didn’t happen due to extreme blood loss and anemia. Milk supply was delayed due to the anemia and blood loss. If you haven’t read the hot mess that was my “after birth” experience, see here.
Yes. I clearly had some post-partum medical issues that totally hindered my quest for breastfeeding success. As a matter of fact, the first time Bella even had formula was during my first of two post-partum trips to the ER. Mommy was in the ER with blood pressure issues and baby needed to eat. What to do? Feed her.
Rewind a little to when I was still in the hospital with Bella attempting to breastfeed. Yes, she latched. Yes, she suckled, etc. — but the “experience” of breastfeeding just wasn’t what I thought it would be. I didn’t feel the way I thought I would feel about it.
I thought it was going to go a little something like this…
….aaaaand nope. Big nope, in fact.
Breastfeeding for me was:
– Anxiety producing (my “resting” heart rate during breastfeeding was around 114, not good.)
– Tension building (I pulled muscles in my neck, down my left side and in my upper shoulders. I was so sore. Not from poor position, but when I finally got her to latch I was terrified to move.)
– Not a good fit. My tiny, 5 lb baby and my massive size F breasts. If I had an extra set of hands, maybe it could have worked. One hand to hold her body, one to hold her head, one to hold my boob and the other to push down on my areola to ensure her nose holes were getting air to breathe. Do you know how scary it is to worry about smothering your kid with your boobs? Not cool.
….it was just a horrible experience for me. Actually. I didn’t enjoy it. At all.
And you know what? That’s okay. That doesn’t make me a bad Mom.
Actually, Bella was not thriving on my breast milk alone. She had to go back to the hospital twice for repeat jaundice testing because she wasn’t eating/pooping enough. Our first night home was an absolute nightmare because after fighting with her to try and latch, she would take a couple sucks and then zonk out. We tried everything. Cold washcloths, stroking her cheeks, the football hold, the cross cradle hold, the laid back hold, the laying down nursing positions, getting her dressed down to her diaper to keep her awake, etc. She was just lethargic. She did not wake every two hours to eat because poor thing didn’t have the energy. Something needed to be done — and for us, that something was formula.
I remember when Bella was lethargic and zonked out, Joey was asleep and what was I doing? I was up sobbing as if someone had died. I felt like a true failure. I felt like I failed my daughter. I failed myself. I failed my family. My daughter was hungry and I couldn’t feed her. I went outside on our covered porch and peered up at the huge Blue Moon that hung in the sky and tears just poured down my cheeks like I had never experienced before. The moon was brilliant that night and illuminated everything in my front and adjacent yard, it was almost an omen that everything was going to be okay…like there would soon be light in the darkness, but at the time I didn’t see it that way.
Still in a sobbing stupor, I went inside and fumbled around in my pantry. I had remembered getting some samples of formula in the mail with some books about them. I sat at the kitchen table and cried some more as I peered over the information about formula through tears. Information that I truly never thought in a zillion years I would even be reading about. I was supposed to be breastfeeding! This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
Thank goodness for my parents and also for the fact that my Mom happened to be making a 3:30 a.m. bathroom trip to find her daughter in shambles at the kitchen table. Mom’s are good at helping you pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. Thank God for my Mom. She really helped me that night. She is typically the voice of reason. She said, “Line up all the formula fed and the breastfed kids and tell me which one is formula fed and which one is breastfed. You can’t tell the difference between them because they are all healthy and thriving!” She had lots of other golden nuggets of wisdom she shared with me that night, which was truly needed.
The night was so rough, that next morning I landed myself in the ER. Stress is bad. As you read above, that’s when Bella got her first taste of formula.
After I got home from the ER we started supplementing Bella with formula and breast milk. I had determined that if I couldn’t feed her on my breast then I would pump as much as I could. We made an appointment to see a lactation consultant to get all the tips on pumping. I drank Mother’s Milk tea, took 6 Fenugreek pills a day, massaged my breasts, pumped every two hours, used hot compresses, used my special nursing bras, etc. I was so proud of every precious drop of breast milk I pumped and fed to Bella.
I quickly realized that bottle feeding my daughter was truly where it’s at. I was a better Mother when I bottle fed her. I was calm, even smiling. I sung to her, I got to actually gaze down at her and enjoy watching her eat. None of which happened when we were breastfeeding.
For the better part of two weeks, Bella got mostly breast milk. Then the next stage of the feeding fiasco happened.
I realized that I valued sleeping more than pumping breast milk. It was at that point that I made the decision to be done with “it” altogether. I was just over it. I was done. I was tired.
The bottom line is, Bella loves milk. It doesn’t matter if it is breast milk or formula. She has taken to Similac Advance Stage 1 Ready to Feed (not powder) like a fish to water. She has been gaining weight, no more traces of jaundice, lots of diapers, etc. She’s not picky about bottles or nipples. Give her the food and she will eat it. Simple as that. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, it seems.
….all of that AND Mommy gets a piece of her life back, gets to keep her sanity and is a healthier/happier Mom.
My point is, maybe know about the whole situation before you jump to judging someone for not breastfeeding. Before you start on your speech or before you click your tongue in disapproval, be informed. Sometimes there is no way to possibly be informed of a Mother’s decision and guess what? It really isn’t any of your business anyway.
Even though it may seem like I’m “doing okay”, you have to know that this has been the hardest two weeks of my life. Not just health wise but geeze…with everything. I packed up all my breastfeeding stuff yesterday and it hurt my heart to do so a bit.
If you’ve stuck around long enough to read to this point — please know that this is a sore subject for me right now and that if you’re going to talk to me about it all I want to hear is:
– You’ve successfully formula fed a child and they are happy and healthy
– Encouragement
What I don’t want to hear is:
– “Well, did you try this…or that…?” with regard to breastfeeding
– “I bet if you did this instead…” “You only lasted two weeks? That’s not very long. You could have done it longer. The first month is so hard but if you would have made it past that you would have been in the clear…” Would I have? You know this for certain?
Not helpful.
Everybody hears “Breast is Best” — I’d like to rewrite that quote to say “Breast is best if Mommy and Baby determine it’s best.”
Babies won’t remember how they were fed…just how they were loved.
At the end of the day, Bella is a healthy, happy and thriving baby…and loves her formula. Anyone who has something negative to say about it…well….
Note: She did this on her own. She knew she needed to help Mommy make a point. Smart kid.
themindofsteph 