Breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world... yeah right!
Breastfeeding mummahs are pretty powerful. But it's not often that we see the reality of what it truly takes portrayed in the media. We don't see the late night nursing sessions. The woman strapped to her pump at work in the toilet. The stay-at-home Mum nursing twins while also trying to keep her toddler entertained and happy. We only see success stories. We never see or hear of the struggle that is breast-feeding - the hard work. Because you better believe; it is fucking hard work!
When it comes to newborn feeding, there is no phrase Mothers will hear more often than "breast is best" but, really this phrase over simplifies a very complex thing. This is usually said with the best intentions but, sometimes it can place a big weight on an already nervous new Mum.
Breast-feeding successfully takes a lot more than having boobs and a baby.
(This entry is about my journey but, remember: however you decide to feed your baby—formula, breastfeed, combo—you're incredible, Mummah!)
I knew very little about what it would really take to raise a baby when I first became a Mum.
I knew a few things, being around my friends with babies, being around young children for a big chunk of my life and seeing my nephews be raised. I like to think I had a lot of "common sense" knowledge that I had picked up along the way.
I had baby sat numerous times and changed a lot of nappies. All of that I had pretty covered but, I definitely didn't understand the exhaustion that would be breastfeeding.
I never really consciously made the decision to breastfeed, I just sort of thought "that's what you do - surely I can do this".
I didn't know that my baby wouldn't just pop out knowing how to breastfeed. I didn't know I'd have to meet with lactation consultants and be on a feeding plan. Heck, I didn't even know what these things were.
I didn't realise that a perfect latch wasn't a given, that it was something the two of us would learn together. I didn't know we would both have our "L plates" and that I would have to teach him how to feed. And that it would be painful and humbling to figure it all out.
I didn't fully realise that I'd have to consider whether my boobs would be easily accessible or not in an outfit I'd put on because I would need to feed my baby in it. I didn't realise I'd live in nursing bras and singlets, all day - every day.
I didn't realise that covering him to feed would be something he would hate and that I would need to stop that. And I also didn't realise that after a while, I wouldn't even care anyway. That I'd breastfeed in a restaurant, at a party, at a café, in a public bathroom, while on the toilet, in a dressing room, playing finska in my in-laws backyard, at a rugby game, on the floor, in church, in the car(SO MUCH), on an airplane. Literally wherever and whenever he needed to be fed.
I knew it would be a commitment, a real commitment. But, I didn't anticipate just how much of a commitment. I’m still mindful of my caffeine intake and I don’t feel like I can enjoy that glass of wine whenever I want or eat cabbage regularly. It was hard to visualise the true dedication it would require before I was in it - no one really prepares you for that and honestly, I don't think anyone really can.
Even more than being pregnant, breast-feeding is a full time job. A demanding, exhausting job. Which is surprising.
A lot of people can feed on demand which is something I have the luxury of doing 9 months later but, in the beginning I fed on a strict schedule.
Thomas was born at 38 weeks as you all know. I suffered severe, insulin dependant Gestational Diabetes which led to him having to get his blood sugar levels checked for some time after birth.
He was born a little cold, lethargic and jaundice on top of this. All of these factors led to a very complicated and gruelling beginning to breastfeeding for us. The first feed consisted of a midwife pinching my nipples and stuffing it in his face - the next week was no different.
After 1 week he had only put on 10g as apposed to the recommended 250g newborns are expected to gain. We were quickly put on a feeding plan. This deflated me. I thought because I had extremely big boobs, surely feeding would be easy and milk supply would be maximum. This is something that is a complete myth.
These are our first feeds and all I am sure of here is that I don't know what the hell we are supposed to do!
Breast size does not determine your supply or effect your ability to feed.
My days and nights were on a three hour Groundhog Day-like cycle. Somehow days turned into nights, and back into days again, almost without me noticing. This was something I was warned about but, almost felt too good to not notice. With a child who nurses 8 to 10 times in a day, life felt a little chaotic.
Just getting out of the house had come to feel like a real chore sometimes. One that is almost too daunting. But in an effort to not go stir crazy, I learnt to get smart about my escapes into the world: Preparation is key.
I would plan my outings around feeding times and ensure I was in a feeding- friendly environment once that 3 hour timer chimed again. You see, in these early days I wasn't too comfortable feeding in public. Mainly because Thomas was so fussy on the breast.
When we couldn't get the latch right, we tried a lot f different positions.
I was blessed and cursed with G-Cup boobs before becoming pregnant. The size of them made it hard to feed because of the angle he would need to be on. So, I had to "football" or "twin style" feed him which is a difficult task in public. He also pulled off a lot. My letdown was fast and he nearly drowned in it and later we would find out that his severe reflux did play a part in his extreme fussiness as well.
So my day would often go something like this:
Feed my baby at home.
By the time I feed, burp and change my son’s diaper then hold him upright for 10 to 15 minutes (reflux Mummahs, you know what I’m talking about) an hour has flown by.
Then I grab my bag, load him in his car seat and head out.
I get to the cafe, get a cup of coffee and do something like go to my Mothers group.
Then, just like that, it’s time for my little human to eat again!
I head to the parents room, feed and change my little guy, then browse the shops.
Because, while I’m here, why not?! I have found that I typically would need (at least) one thing there anyway. Then, I head to the grocery store. If I use the feeding friendly parent room or environment I could extend my outing by at least an hour.
The same rules applied to being at home.
Nurse, burp, change. The clock starts ticking. About two hours until his next feeding. While he naps, I can conquer the around-the-house tasks—prep dinner, even if it’s 11 am. Throw in a load of laundry, which is often forgotten about for a day or two (and will need to be washed again)
Take a FAST shower—a sweet moment to myself. I amaze myself at what I could accomplish while the clock was ticking.
But then, in a blink, it is time to nurse again.
In the early days I didn't fully comprehend just how primal the first weeks (particular the first 6-8) of breastfeeding would be until I was in them. That I would basically have at least one of my boobs out at all times and when it wasn't out I was conscious of how much time was left until one would need to come out again.
I wasn't aware of the magical and beautiful connection I would feel to my baby.
Before, I couldn't know what it was like to keep a human alive with my body. The responsibility that comes with making sure you are getting enough milk into your baby or taking the right precautions to supplement if you need to, is heavy.
Each weekly visit to check his weight could make me feel like I was being scored or judged in some way. I couldn't feel the anxiety that came with this part of Motherhood until it was sitting on my chest.
Thomas was also a reflux baby. With this came a lot of dietary restrictions for me.. No onions, garlic, tomatoes, cabbage, citrus foods - the list goes on. If I did eat these things or too much of it - I would be punished the next day but an extremely unsettled baby. Nobody tells you this might happen - no one tells you of these sacrifices or that your whole vocabulary will change. Before breastfeeding I had never heard of a letdown , flanges and what the actual fuck is hind milk? I didn't know that I would ever talk about duck bills and not actually be referring to the animal. These phrases are things that I learnt with time as my knowledge grew. You see, I knew I wanted to breastfeed so, I did invest in learning and resourcing as much as possible.
With all our complications at the beginning I wasn't even sure I could successfully do this. It was exhausting, triumphant and deflating all at the same time.
In the first few days we used nipple shields, tubes to trick him into latching and other techniques.
My goals were small and achievable. First - lets make it to 6 weeks and when we did that I thought okay; lets make it to 3 months.
Now, 9 months into Motherhood and our breastfeeding journey I am capable of feeding in public. Literally everywhere.
I remember the first time I fed in public. I was with my sister in the food court and i tried to cover him. She was a Mum of 2 and 6 months pregnant at the time. Thomas was 7 days old. He screamed bloody murder and it resulted in us going to the parents rom... Epic Fail!
The second time I fed in public I was at Darling Harbour with my Mum and Nanna who were visiting from Melbourne. Thomas was starving and I didn't pump enough. I was nervous and scared but, I fed him. Not for long but, it happened. I don't think I would of done it without my Mum there.
After this I got a lot of confidence from a friend, Cindy who I met at Mothers group. She would feed her son anywhere and everywhere and one day she told me "you can too". She was right.. I could.
After this, my confidence grew as our bond did and my care factor soon went to zero.
I now can feed on demand which is luxurious after being on a plan for so long.
Our latch is close to perfected and Thomas has turned into a complete boob monster.
We still have issues - I think each stage and age come with there own. Right now he is curious about the world and he never wants to miss out. He pulls off a lot to watch the world go by or look at a dog passing but, I have learnt not to care. He yanks and plays with my nipple - he likes to pull off at a letdown and watch the milk spurt over his head (hilarious, really. Especially in the food court).
I am proud of our accomplishment and the effort and time we have both needed to put into making this work. Breast feeding is not for the faint hearted. Not one bit - it takes persistence, determination, strength, will power and a whole lot of practice.
A lot of this success is also attributed to my partner. Studies show that one of the main reasons women give up feeding is not due to lack of supply but, lack of support. Tom has always shown his support and encouragement. He has always celebrated the little wins such as pumping more mls than the day before and congratulating us on hitting the weight gain goals. It's the reassurance of a back rub or tap as he rolls over at 2am and I'm sitting up feeding or the little head nod and smile he gives when I'm feeding at a party or the chill approach to having to sit in the parents room for an hour while we feed.
Support will help you succeed - this I am sure of.
Thomas really is still in charge of my body. I gave it up for him in pregnancy and you think once he is born that you will get your body back but, you don't. You're body is to help him thrive - You think its only when your pregnant but, its also when you breastfeed. Its amazing really. I am in complete awe of the human body and how us women can make human milk. We have receptors on our nipples that allows us to determine what antibodies to produce for our little ones. Now, that is something to be amazed about.
But, I will continue to give up my body and sacrifice garlic for him; and that's because he needs me right now. I am his lifeline. So I soldier on, in three hour blocks of time - or more frequently if he insists. And then, just like that I will blink, and he will be walking into school. No longer needing me so frequently during the day. No longer wanting to snuggle up for those nursing sessions. No longer my baby boy. So for now, I’ll hold on, just a little bit longer - just a little bit tighter.
When I was pregnant stranger in the CTG monitoring room said to me "a calm mum makes for a calm baby" and this advice can never be more accurate when I look back at our breastfeeding journey thus far.
Out of all the things I didn't realise about breastfeeding, the one thing that astounds me the most is that I didn't understand how much I would honestly love it - despite everything it is one of my favourite things to do.
Until next time,
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