*Quick disclaimer: this is a post about breastfeeding. If you're not interested in reading the words nipple, breast, latch, suck, etc... repeatedly... then click away now!
"Any mother and child can learn to breastfeed, if left alone on a desert island." (the encouraging words of the lactation consultant who actually visited my house two weeks after Ben was born... and she was quoting an article written by a doctor)
If there were one thing I wish I understood before I had my son, it would be that breastfeeding is hard. Really, really hard. I had heard my mother-in-law recount tales of mastitis, I'd read about yeast infections on your nipples and in your baby's mouth, and I took a class on the topic - which warned of nipple tenderness and painful engorgement. I had a co-worker tell me, "It's really hard, but you can do it."
But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to endure.
Perhaps it is one of those things that you aren't really listening to until you experience it yourself; it's just not relevant yet. Or maybe it's like childbirth: you are more than open to soaking up every bit of preparation, but until you've gone through it, there is no understanding it! Regardless, although I was mentally prepared to breastfeed my son, I had no idea how difficult it would be.
As mentally rehearsed so many times, I attempted to nurse my baby within minutes of his being born. He licked and nibbled a little, but never really latched on. I was so floating on cloud nine at this point that I didn't really worry yet. The midwife reassured me that although he hadn't latched right on, he had gotten to smell my smell, and taste my skin, and those were important things.
When I got to my room on the maternity floor, though, things were pretty much the same. Ben was what the nurses called a "tongue-sucker." They explained this to mean that he had likely been sucking on his tongue while he was growing in my womb, and since babies love to suck, he was probably doing it a lot. Great, so he already knew how to self-soothe, right? Wrong. Those of you familiar with the basics of breastfeeding know that the baby's tongue must be under your nipple, and over his bottom gums, as he is nursing. In Ben's case, when I would attempt to latch him on, his tongue would go to the roof of his mouth as he attempted to suck in the way in which he had grown accustomed. This was no good, in two ways: one, he wasn't sucking effectively and therefore wasn't getting any nutrition, and two, he was mouthing and rubbing and chewing my nipples raw!
I was exhausted, to say nothing of the unbelievable amount of emotional/hormonal/overhwelmed mama crying I was doing. Ben wasn't eating, and I was supposed to be the one feeding him! I was so sad. His skin was turning yellow(er) with jaundice, and he hadn't had a brown poop yet. As long as nothing was going in, nothing was coming out - so his little body was having trouble pushing through all the bilirubin that was making his skin so yellow. Everyone who came to visit commented on how contentedly he was snoozing, but this didn't make me feel happy or even lucky. It reminded me that he was getting ever more jaundiced, and as that progressed, sleepier - which didn't help with the breastfeeding! I started to realize that I wasn't going to be going home after 24 hours. Or even 48.
6 comments:
In my opinion, you are the champion of breastfeeding in so many ways. And i haven't had nearly as much trouble as you have with the sucking and jaundice and what are you currently enduring now. BUT, I can say that it is hard. REally really hard. And I don't understand why the baby doesn't just come out and instintively know how and when to eat. But when they do get there... it's a wonderful thing. Very rewarding knowing I gave my babies the best start possible.
It's so funny how difficult it is at the beginning, and how easy it is now. Like I can't imagine having to plan to pack bottles and spring water or whatever. And how much it would cost. And how you'd have to go home if you ran out of bottles. I always think, if I got stuck away from home for an entire day, Ben would be fine. He'd be wearing one nasty diaper (and I'd be hungry), but he'd be fine.
By the way, thanks, Jules.
not to mention the waste. I have thrown away so may bottles of formula because they didn't drink it all. With boobs (or knockers. :) ), it's great. Take what you want and you're done.
I agree completely...I went to a breastfeeding class before Ryan was born and they made it seem like it was the most natural thing in the world...like he would come out and be a champion at the breast. Not so. We fought it for 8 weeks and then, at the advice of my pediatrician, we switched to formula (Ryan wasn't gaining weight). I am hoping this time around will be better!!
Amen sister! I remember telling people that Abel was nursing non stop some days and they would just stare at me like I was doing something wrong. There was never a time in my life that I felt so confused and exhausted but happy that I was pushing through the rough times for him.
Great job Beth, you are my hero!!
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