Breastfeeding
You saw the title, right? Any squeamishness you feel while you continue reading is now your own fault.
It's been a long ride, and one that hasn't quite ended, but I've gotten my life and mostly my body back, and it makes me think a lot about what the process has been like. V breastfeed immediately and voraciously. The lactation consultant at the hospital actually thought V might be tongue tied because she was hurting me so much, and called in the doctor but eventually they told us that she was just "a barracuda." That's an actual term they use to describe her aggressive feeding style. Emotionally I was in heaven because she nursed enthusiastically every hour and put on weight like a champ. But physically, I was in so much pain and had so much milk all the time.I drank decaf tea around the clock to stay hydrated, then refrigerated the tea bags and put them in my bra after every feeding. Earth Mama Angel Baby Nipple Butter warded off any chapping or cracking, thank god. I used the Feed Baby app for tracking feedings and alternated breasts every two hours to give myself a chance to heal. I wore a lovely underwire nursing bra once and only once, and got a clogged duct immediately. I used a heating pad and then nursed on that side with V's chin pointed at the source of the pain, and the clog resolved itself that afternoon.
It's still amazing for me to think of how thoroughly nursing dominated my life. First thing I'd wake up engorged and needing to nurse, then I'd nurse every two hours like clockwork throughout the day, and V slept in the bassinet next to my side of the bed and I'd nurse her on demand in bed throughout the night, with the number of nighttime feedings decreasing steadily as she got older. When she was very young, my milk would put her to sleep, lights out, every time. It was fantastic. I'd nurse her, put her down for 20 minutes or so while she dozed, and do some "me things." As her vision and perceptions got sharper, she'd stare at me or wave her arm around or (and she still does this, which cracks me up) tuck her hand in my bra while she drank. I started pumping before I went back to work but after the 6 week "nipple confusion" period, in order to build up a stash and get myself used to the process.
Pumping was the worst. Even when I'd gotten it down to a science, it took 20 minutes to do the while process: set up, double pump while watching videos of V, then break down, clean up and store the milk. Repeat every two hours. Every night I'd have to clean and sterilize the pump parts and bottles. Every morning I'd have to repack the pump bag and lug it everywhere, all day, every time I left the house.
My pumping wardrobe was a lot more fuss and less fun than my maternity wardrobe. Every outfit was planned around being able to quickly and conveniently pump and nurse. I lived in nursing bras and tanks and whatever button-down or nursing top I had clean and ready. I leaked quite a bit at the beginning and needed to wash stash my reusable breast pads twice a week.The disposable ones were too fluffy and crinkly and you could tell I was wearing them.
Eventually, when I was at home, I'd use a hand pump on one side while feeding V on the other. I always got the most volume and best let-down with that technique, but there was only a small window between the time V was strong enough to help herself to one side and before she started trying to grab the pump handle at every opportunity. At work, I had the whole drama with getting a mothers' space, and working pumping into my already crazy client schedule. It was solely my job to find a place and time for this, and there were several times it was very uncomfortable. At CPR training, they had smoke breaks (too short) and a lunch break (too late), so I had to just excuse myself in the middle of a unit. I pumped in the car almost every day. When I had other team members riding with me, I'd sit in the back seat and pump behind them (awkward!). Travel pumping was more comfortable in the summer, when I had fewer layers, but then storing the milk on the road was a pain because I was constantly worried my cooler would get too warm and spoil the milk.
There was a period when we were dipping into my frozen stash quite a lot and I couldn't keep up with V's demand. It was like my body had figured out that the pump was NOT a baby and while I was able to nurse and give V as much as she wanted, my pumping yield dropped by half. That was actually worse than being engorged all the time and HAVING to pump. Instead, I'd force myself to sit and pump, trying to stay relaxed while the results were making me increasingly frustrated. I started drinking mother's milk tea. I switched flanges on my pump and then ordered an entirely new pump when I realized the old one had lost suction. I did breastfeeding marathons on the weekends to increase demand and production. I obsessed about my output and my ounces.
Luckily, just when I'd bought our first canister of formula, V started eating enough solids that my decreased production was just enough. That got us to the 1 year mark, when I started filling V's bottles with 3/4 breast milk, 1/4 organic cow's milk, then 1/2 and 1/2, then 1/4 breast milk. Now her bottles (one for each nap) are all cow's milk. I went from pumping every two hours to every three hours to every four hours. I kept the nursing sessions (5 a day) and dropped one pumping session on week days, so that I was only pumping once in the afternoon. My happiest moment in the process was when I realized that I could stop pumping at all. Then my nursing sessions dropped to four, then three. Recently, V has stopped nursing when I come home to see her for lunch, unless she's upset and then it's just for comfort and closeness. Lately she's having too much fun playing to want to stop and nurse. Sometimes she wants to nurse right when I get home from work, and sometimes she just wants to read or play with me. So some days I only nurse her once in the morning when the wakes up and then at bed time when I put her to sleep. She's a year and a half now, and a good eater, so she doesn't need my milk for nutrition. But when she's sick it's the only food she wants, and I'm hoping we can get through the winter with two sessions a day intact so that she's getting the immunity benefit.
Looking back, I'm a little amazed I managed it. It was absolutely right for us, but I totally understand why other moms end up doing something different. At every turn there was a logistical challenge that could have gone a different way. Funny how "the most natural thing in the world" is such a physical, mental and emotional challenge.
It's been a long ride, and one that hasn't quite ended, but I've gotten my life and mostly my body back, and it makes me think a lot about what the process has been like. V breastfeed immediately and voraciously. The lactation consultant at the hospital actually thought V might be tongue tied because she was hurting me so much, and called in the doctor but eventually they told us that she was just "a barracuda." That's an actual term they use to describe her aggressive feeding style. Emotionally I was in heaven because she nursed enthusiastically every hour and put on weight like a champ. But physically, I was in so much pain and had so much milk all the time.I drank decaf tea around the clock to stay hydrated, then refrigerated the tea bags and put them in my bra after every feeding. Earth Mama Angel Baby Nipple Butter warded off any chapping or cracking, thank god. I used the Feed Baby app for tracking feedings and alternated breasts every two hours to give myself a chance to heal. I wore a lovely underwire nursing bra once and only once, and got a clogged duct immediately. I used a heating pad and then nursed on that side with V's chin pointed at the source of the pain, and the clog resolved itself that afternoon.
It's still amazing for me to think of how thoroughly nursing dominated my life. First thing I'd wake up engorged and needing to nurse, then I'd nurse every two hours like clockwork throughout the day, and V slept in the bassinet next to my side of the bed and I'd nurse her on demand in bed throughout the night, with the number of nighttime feedings decreasing steadily as she got older. When she was very young, my milk would put her to sleep, lights out, every time. It was fantastic. I'd nurse her, put her down for 20 minutes or so while she dozed, and do some "me things." As her vision and perceptions got sharper, she'd stare at me or wave her arm around or (and she still does this, which cracks me up) tuck her hand in my bra while she drank. I started pumping before I went back to work but after the 6 week "nipple confusion" period, in order to build up a stash and get myself used to the process.
Pumping was the worst. Even when I'd gotten it down to a science, it took 20 minutes to do the while process: set up, double pump while watching videos of V, then break down, clean up and store the milk. Repeat every two hours. Every night I'd have to clean and sterilize the pump parts and bottles. Every morning I'd have to repack the pump bag and lug it everywhere, all day, every time I left the house.
My pumping wardrobe was a lot more fuss and less fun than my maternity wardrobe. Every outfit was planned around being able to quickly and conveniently pump and nurse. I lived in nursing bras and tanks and whatever button-down or nursing top I had clean and ready. I leaked quite a bit at the beginning and needed to wash stash my reusable breast pads twice a week.The disposable ones were too fluffy and crinkly and you could tell I was wearing them.
Eventually, when I was at home, I'd use a hand pump on one side while feeding V on the other. I always got the most volume and best let-down with that technique, but there was only a small window between the time V was strong enough to help herself to one side and before she started trying to grab the pump handle at every opportunity. At work, I had the whole drama with getting a mothers' space, and working pumping into my already crazy client schedule. It was solely my job to find a place and time for this, and there were several times it was very uncomfortable. At CPR training, they had smoke breaks (too short) and a lunch break (too late), so I had to just excuse myself in the middle of a unit. I pumped in the car almost every day. When I had other team members riding with me, I'd sit in the back seat and pump behind them (awkward!). Travel pumping was more comfortable in the summer, when I had fewer layers, but then storing the milk on the road was a pain because I was constantly worried my cooler would get too warm and spoil the milk.
There was a period when we were dipping into my frozen stash quite a lot and I couldn't keep up with V's demand. It was like my body had figured out that the pump was NOT a baby and while I was able to nurse and give V as much as she wanted, my pumping yield dropped by half. That was actually worse than being engorged all the time and HAVING to pump. Instead, I'd force myself to sit and pump, trying to stay relaxed while the results were making me increasingly frustrated. I started drinking mother's milk tea. I switched flanges on my pump and then ordered an entirely new pump when I realized the old one had lost suction. I did breastfeeding marathons on the weekends to increase demand and production. I obsessed about my output and my ounces.
Luckily, just when I'd bought our first canister of formula, V started eating enough solids that my decreased production was just enough. That got us to the 1 year mark, when I started filling V's bottles with 3/4 breast milk, 1/4 organic cow's milk, then 1/2 and 1/2, then 1/4 breast milk. Now her bottles (one for each nap) are all cow's milk. I went from pumping every two hours to every three hours to every four hours. I kept the nursing sessions (5 a day) and dropped one pumping session on week days, so that I was only pumping once in the afternoon. My happiest moment in the process was when I realized that I could stop pumping at all. Then my nursing sessions dropped to four, then three. Recently, V has stopped nursing when I come home to see her for lunch, unless she's upset and then it's just for comfort and closeness. Lately she's having too much fun playing to want to stop and nurse. Sometimes she wants to nurse right when I get home from work, and sometimes she just wants to read or play with me. So some days I only nurse her once in the morning when the wakes up and then at bed time when I put her to sleep. She's a year and a half now, and a good eater, so she doesn't need my milk for nutrition. But when she's sick it's the only food she wants, and I'm hoping we can get through the winter with two sessions a day intact so that she's getting the immunity benefit.
Looking back, I'm a little amazed I managed it. It was absolutely right for us, but I totally understand why other moms end up doing something different. At every turn there was a logistical challenge that could have gone a different way. Funny how "the most natural thing in the world" is such a physical, mental and emotional challenge.