At trader joes yesterday little man and I chatted with the sweet check out lady who shared stories of her two rambunctious boys and she recommended to me her many reasons of why she had them 17 months apart. But, all I heard? "and you're already so very used to nursing" and the blood rushed to my face and I had to pretend I wasn't about to cry or that I heard the rest of what she had said. It's incredibly hard to share this, but I need to. I need some peace and writing out the good and the bad is part of being the authentic person I aim to be.
I've dreamed of having a baby for as long as I could remember. For many years I imagined a future child as I lay in bed, it was always my favorite thought to think of before closing my eyes for the night. Part of that dream always involved nursing my little one. Perhaps peacefully in the quiet of the night in his perfect nursery in our beautiful custom rocker. My mother breastfed me, all my friends breastfed, I couldn't wait. It seemed so beautiful, right, and natural. I read a bit about it, I observed my sweet friend who had a baby three months before me (perfect timing I thought! She can give me the inside scoop).
But beyond that I was not at all prepared, woefully so. I should of read more, I should of understood the challenges, but I didn't. So fast forward to August 26th 2015 and our little man is welcomed into the world after 17 hours of labor (which I enjoyed! Didn't expect that). After 5 minutes of skin to skin he was whisked off to the Nicu for monitoring... Hmm that wasn't part of the plan at all. Nor was the fact that he was kept there much longer than needed preventing us from trying nursing the first 6 hours. When he was finally back in our room and we tried it didn't go well, he fought my breast every time we tried. I was showed different holds but after a few minutes was essentially left to my own devices. We were discharged the following day and things didn't go better at home, the next day at the pediatricians office we learned his weight has dropped 8.5%. My milk wasn't even in! Luckily a kind friend offered me some of her frozen stash. That night I offered it to him in a sirenge to avoid nipple confusion--he gobbled it up and slept much better. But after two more days of craziness at the breast I offered him a bottle and sobbed the entire time. He loved it, it was an incredibly bittersweet moment offering a bottle to my three day old son I wasn't even sure if I would give him a bottle at all before he was born.
I also finally pumped on Saturday when I felt engorged. Joy filled me when I saw that first ounce. He gobbled it up right away. Life then became about pumping and feeding. My lactation consultant wanted me to focus on pumping and hoped that maybe he would be able to latch when he got a little bigger. The trouble was most days I couldn't keep up, a second friend brought me milk, I was grateful and sad at the same time. He was eating a lot, sometimes 35 ounces in a day. I was taking all the supplements in the world, pumping as often as I could (never as often as he ate though). And still, a good day I got 12 ounces. Then, as the weeks went on, my nipples began to hurt more and more. Nothing could touch them, the shower would make me scream. Finally right around 5 weeks as I felt tears about to turn on my pump I asked my lactation consultant to come assess. She diagnosed me with Raynaud's phenomenon of the nipple. This wasn't going to get better, it would get worse. My heart broke. The next few days I was barely getting any milk, it was as if my body had just given up. We stopped right at 5 weeks and I couldn't of been more sad. I was grateful to be free of the pump but heart broken to have missed out on this wonderful bonding experience and ability to nourish my child with only my body.
And it still hurts. A lot. Every morning I mix up my honest company organic formula and prepare bottles. Every night I feel sad that I have to wait to warm up a bottle to feed my little man. It hurts and frustrates me. But through it all he has thrived. He has gained weight like a champ, has doubled in size since birth, and is honestly a joyful little guy! He has occasional hard days but mostly he spends his wake time smiling or sticking out his little tongue or telling us his many thoughts. He soothes himself to sleep 90% of the time, loves to be in my wrap, and generally makes my life infinently wonderful. He is perfect and healthy and I am so blessed. I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand the mess that happened with our breastfeeding journey. It was far too short, but I know in time it won't be quite as painful to remember. I am learning as a mama that not all parts of our story go the way you want them to. Motherhood is beautiful but oh so messy and full of surprising twists and turns.
Someday William, I hope you read what I write to you hear and know how hard I try, and how deeply you are loved... and to wrap this up, my dear one: a few lines from our favorite book:
I wanted you more
than you ever will know
so I sent love to follow
wherever you go.
It's high as you wish it. It's quick as an elf.
You'll never outgrow it...it stretches itself!
So climb any mountain...
climb up to the sky!
My love will find you.
My love can fly!
And if someday you're lonely,
or someday you're sad,
or you strike out at baseball,
or think you've been bad...
just lift up your face, feel the wind in your hair.
That's me, my sweet baby, my love is right there.
-nancy tillman (wherever you go my love will follow)
Be still my beating heart...
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