My breastfeeding story
Hello friends. I'm applying to be a breastfeeding mentor to new moms through an LJ community. Part of the application process is to keep a public entry on my breastfeeding story in my livejournal. So I'm linking to my story in this entry. It is a VERY long story, so don't bother reading it unless this is something you are really curious about or really care about. I also don't want to discourage any possible future moms from reading my story (in fact, I would hope the OPPOSITE would happen--I'd hope it would be inspiring). The early days of nursing Carter were truly some of the most physically and mentally challenging days of my life---but I also had it harder then any mom I personally know. MANY moms have some difficult issues in the early weeks of breastfeeding, but my story was definitely not in that normal range. It's not supposed to be as hard as it was for me. I'm so glad I stuck with it because it turned into one of the most awesome gifts for myself and Carter in the end. We are still going strong with our nursing relationship. :)
I had an awesome, uncomplicated home water birth with my midwife, doula, and husband present. Seven hours of labor, and Carter was out. We started nursing probably within a half hour of his birth. I quickly realized how different it is to nurse an actual human being then the doll I had practiced on with my doula. Newborns are squirmy, slippery, and can't hold their own heads up. So there is a lot of maneuvering to get a brand-new baby latched onto your breast properly. It took a few tries because Carter wouldn't open his mouth wide enough. As I was sitting there in bed feeding my brand new boy, I wondered if I was going to be able to do it on my own later on. It was a lot trickier then I had expected.
My placenta was taking a long time to come out, so my midwife recommended that I squat at the next contraction. It worked, and I gave birth to that massive organ. And then a ton of blood. The bleeding wouldn't stop. I didn't know any different because I was always told that there was a lot of blood with birthing, but apparently this was too much blood. Every time my midwife put pressure on my uterus, blood squirt out of me like a garden hose. I was too shocked to be scared, but I saw the fear in my midwife and doula's eyes. My midwife looked me in the eyes and said, "Heather, you HAVE to stop bleeding." My doula kept reminding me to do the opposite of what I was doing while birthing---when I was in labor, I was reminded to continually imagine my cervix opening up. Now I was told to CLOSE IT SHUT, CLOSE IT SHUT, CLOSE IT SHUT! I was administered pitocin in my leg (boy did it burn) by my midwife while my doula put some drops of shephard's purse in my mouth to stop the bleeding. Then I think I remember a spoonful of agave nectar, recharge (electrolyte drink), and bee pollen were also poured into my mouth to get sugars and vitamins/minerals quickly into my bloodstream due to all the blood loss. I had to hand Carter over to Brian (my husband) while all of this was happening. I felt lucky to know that Carter had gotten at least an hour of direct skin-to-skin contact first, and got a real good nursing session in there before the catastrophe hit. The bleeding stopped, but I was dizzy. I felt myself fading, and told them that I was really dizzy while I was shaking my head around. My midwife brought in the oxygen machine, and put the oxygen mask on me. It started to help pretty quickly. But I was also nauseous. Some time went by, and my midwife kept tending to me to make sure that the bleeding had really stopped. Carter was resting peacefully on Brian's chest next to me. My midwife massaged my uterus in increments, and no more blood was coming out. So she eventually started the vitals on Carter. As she was weighing and measuring him, I asked for something to puke in, and I began to vomit. It was awful, but it felt so good after. Until a few minutes later when I felt the urge again. I dry-heaved several times. I was so sad to have to feel so disconnected from everything going on at this moment though. My birth went so beautifully and amazingly that it was such a drag to have this happen later on. But I was alive, I was going to be fine, and I had a perfectly healthy baby boy born 8 lbs 10 oz.
I pretty much nursed him nonstop once he was awake again. I nursed on demand, and he stayed on the breast for very long periods of time. I could still tell that his latch was a bit tight, but I figured it would work itself out over the next week or two. He slept in our bed with us (he still does to this day), and I would nurse him throughout the night. I was still too weak to get out of bed (I even needed assistance going to the toilet---all the blood loss left me really dizzy, and anemic), so I nursed him hunched over against the headboard all day. Not the best position for a good latch. I felt so sick and nauseated too, and barely had an appetite at all. I had to force-feed myself a few bites of anything. This lasted for about two weeks (until my hemoglobin came back up and I wasn't anemic anymore).
To add to how sick I was feeling, I also started to become very anxious. Nights were hard, and days were getting harder too. Carter's latch was starting to cause a pretty good amount of pain by the 2nd night, and by the 3rd day, he screamed nonstop. His high needs temperament had begun (yes, I have a high needs baby---he has gotten so much easier the older he gets, but the first 6 months were often torture). I've heard babies cry before, and I grew up with several siblings---but this was a type of cry I had never heard out of a human baby. It sounded as if I was killing him---the highest, ear-piercing shrieks. He screamed unless he was constantly on the breast. It wasn't that I minded nursing him 24/7---this was the sort of thing I was expecting with a newborn. But it hurt so incredibly bad the entire time he would nurse (and he wanted to stay on for hours). Latching him on was difficult as well, and the initial latch felt like 100 needles going through my nipples and slowly cutting them off. I didn't know it could possibly be this hard. It was a physical and emotional challenge I didn't quite expect. I did everything I can to try to distract myself during each nursing session so I didn't have to feel the pain---like watched funny TV shows or had my husband massage my shoulders. But it only did so much. Later on that afternoon, blood trickled out of Carter's mouth. My husband and I freaked out and immediately called our midwife. She said unless my nipples were bleeding, this wasn't normal. I ran to the bathroom to get a good look at my breasts. Yep, my nipples were torn up---scabs were forming and there was some blood. They were so raw! At least I knew he wasn't hemorrhaging though. He was just swallowing the blood from my nipples that he was shredding. I asked my husband to please make a phone call to one of the lactation consultants on the list our doula left with us. He randomly chose one based on how close she lived to us, the fact that she was an IBCLC, and that she was also a nurse. I didn't realize at the time how lucky I was that he picked possibly one of the best gifts I could have gotten for my first year with my son. She said she would come by the following morning, right before our first scheduled pediatrician appointment.
The next day my nipples were pretty wounded---bubbly looking scabs. Every time Carter nursed, it was like he was ripping the scab off and starting a new, raw wound again. I wanted to die. He was still screaming and crying an awful lot too. I absolutely dreaded every feeding, and I knew they were constantly coming up. I had so much anxiety about them nonstop. But I couldn't handle his insane shrieks in between either (and I'm extrememly AP-oriented, so I don't believe in letting babies cry). So I let him continually nurse on my wounded breasts and just bit a pillow or blanket or cried throughout the feedings. Until the LC showed up. She brought a scale along to do pre-and post-weight checks so we could see how much milk he was getting. My milk was definitely in by now (it had come in the day before). She knew I was anemic by her first glance at me (I was whiter then a ghost). She said that my appetite would probably come back in the upcoming week or two. I was so nervous to give her all of the control to latch him onto my breast for me (because I was nervous enough doing it myself). She latched him on very quickly (much faster then I was doing---I think I was so slow because all of the anxious anticipation I was building up), and it didn't hurt AT ALL when she did it! So I knew there was hope. She also had me nurse on the couch with good posture, and not slouched over in bed. She taught me how to use a pillow and the Boppy to get him to a better height at my breast/nipple (which really helps with a proper latch). He was also easier to manage this way. She explained how to hold his head so that I get him onto the breast at a proper angle, and how to get him to open his mouth wide. He also spit up the most I had seen since I started nursing---I assumed that with a better latch, he was getting much more milk. And the scale showed that. He was definitely getting several ounces out! His weight was looking good (I think it said 8 lbs 2 oz, or maybe 5 oz, I'm not sure). I felt so much more confident, but I was still so nervous that once she left, I wasn't going to be able to do this on my own. She gave me awesome nipple cooling gel pads, told me to make sure to use my Lansinoh, and gave me instructions on icing my engorged breasts. Then she told me about her free mothers breastfeeding support/natural, AP parenting-oriented group that she holds every Thursday morning at her house. I was amazed! That was totally my cup of tea. She said I was welcome any time, and to just walk in. She explained that I could go up until Carter hits one year in age (she said she still encourages moms to continue nursing beyond that, but it gets too crowded if she allows everyone to keep coming after a year).
We left the house and got into the car with our son for the first time since the birth. He screamed almost the whole way there, desperately looking for something to suck on. I nursed him when we arrived, and I seemed to do an ok job getting a non-painful latch on my own for the first time. He even seemed satisfied afterwards, so I figured with a good latch came good milk intake. The doctor weighed him, and the scale said 7 lbs 14 oz (or something close to it). Several ounces different then the midwife and LC's scales. Luckily the ped is very pro-breastfeeding. They told me to nurse him on my now better latch for several days, and then come in again for a weight check. We did that, but the scale read the exact same weight again. Still different then the midwife's scale though. So I waited a week and went in once more---it read 8 lbs 10 oz. Back to birth weight! I was congratulated by my very impressed pediatrician for doing this on my breastmilk alone, and giving my baby the best gift. It felt so good.
But soon enough, my nipples were killing me again, and still raw and scabbed. Nursing was hurting like hell, and I noticed that Carter's tongue was white. I suspected thrush. Every feeding felt like someone was sawing my nipples off. I called the lactation consultant. She came over instantly, helped me with the latch again (I wasn't doing it optimally), and said that yes, it appeared that he had thrush---and I probably did too. She talked about natural remedies for treating it, and to call the doctor if they didn't clear it up. Nothing was working, so I called the pediatrician and got us on Nystatin. That worked. But it still hurt to nurse! He was still screaming all of the time, and I was dreading feedings even more. I was losing confidence. I went to a local breastfeeding store, and the owner talked to me further about latching, and helped me out a little. She also assisted me in latching him on while in the Moby wrap (since he wanted to be attached to my boob 24/7). I felt motivated with a small burst of confidence again. I was also desperate at this point with his constant need to suck, so I gave in and came home with a pacifier (something that I had sworn I'd never use---and definitely not this eary in the game). He wouldn't accpet it anyway.
Still, it all continued to go downhill. Not only was the latch terrible and tight (I now got vasospasm with each nursing---my nipple would come off pinched like a lipstick tube, white as a ghost, and would BURN), but getting him to even latch on was quite a long, dreadful fiasco. He would thrash around, arch his back and SCREAM, and his arms would flail all over the place. The arching made it impossible to even get him close to the breast, and with his flailing arms, I needed two people to get him latched (one to hold his arms down, one to latch him on). Thank god my husband works from home. He would come out, and I would have to tickle Carter's mouth with my fingers to get him moving toward the breast at all while Brian held down Carter's arms. Between 5 and 15 minutes later, I would FINALLY get him latched. But it was always a terrible, painful latch. I didn't want to go through another 10 minutes of screaming, holding baby down, arching mess, so I always just let him nurse on a bad latch (which would grind my nipples up further). It was awful, I would scream and cry along with the baby. I didn't feel like I was bonding with him at all---I felt bad for him, but I was also resentful towards him. I know that wasn't fair, but I was just not in a good place mentally anymore. I kept saying I want to kill myself and that breastfeeding was ruining my life, my relationship with my baby, and my marriage. My husband and I would fight all of the time because between the breastfeeding issues, and Carter's CONSTANT screamfests, we were both so stressed out. Not to forget the insane lack of sleep we were getting. But I was stubborn, and I wasn't going to give up without a good fight. Heck, I wasn't planning on giving up at all. I KNEW my case was severe, I KNEW it just HAD to eventually improve. I had never met anyone who had quite this amount of trouble nursing their newborn. I've heard of sore nipples, sure---but not all of this! There was no way my son was going to get formula though! And I felt like I didn't have much support around me. My mother had not breastfed. My mother-in-law never breastfed. I didn't want to tell them about anything I was going through because I didn't want to hear the "its ok if it doesn't work out, there is always formula" or "just give him a bottle." I felt alone, and I knew I was THE ONLY ONE who could do this work. My husband couldn't nurse Carter for me. I even contacted someone from a local La Leche League group, and showed up at the meeting. I got no support at the meeting at all. They talked about baby supplies (not necessarily breastfeeding related ones) the entire time, then at the very last 5 minutes or so asked if anyone was having problems. They knew that was why I was there (I gave the leader a huge rundown of my story the day before the meeting). She just read things that it could possibly be from a guidebook (the same guidebook I already had at home, and had already read 100 times myself). I walked out of the meeting with a screaming baby, and with a new feeling helplessness. I wanted to run away.
I posted on the breastfeeding community to give them my nursing story up until now, vent, and ask for encouragement. I got tons of support, some women even offered me to email them or call them at home! I was amazed. A lot of them said they had similar things happen in the beginning, and promised me that it gets SO MUCH BETTER. I believed them, and held onto hope. So many of them told me that by 6 weeks, things would probably get a lot easier. I knew I could hold on. I also got a message from janisfan from this post asking if I had an adopt a mom mentor, or if I would like one. She said that she was an AAM, and would be happy to take me on if I wanted. I had applied a while back to get an AAM, but I never heard anything, so I was more then happy to receive her help. She was fantastic, and answered my emails SO quickly. She filled my inbox with links and videos and incredibly useful information. In between painful nursings, I would do nothing but read about proper latching/breastfeeding techniques, watch videos on how to get the baby to latch on properly, and study photographs too. But no matter how much research I did, no matter how much I practiced, I just couldn't get a good latch. I swear, the term "latch" at this point was starting to sound like nails on a chalkboard to me. My entire life was based on latch latch latch. I had nothing else going on, nothing else to talk to anyone about. I had a screaming, arching baby who wouldn't latch, and when he did, the constant pain 12 times a day was worse then being in labor. I would have given birth once a day at this point just to make the breastfeeding situation better.
Six weeks came and went, I got my first breastfeeding achievement ribbon, but nursing was STILL painful. Some moms on the breastfeeding community told me it took them at least 8 weeks until it stopped hurting for them, and to just hold on.
I took some advice from my mentor, and from some of the women on the breastfeeding community, and called another IBCLC for a second opinion. Carter was now 8 weeks old, and things were still just as terrible. Maybe someone else would flow with me better? She came over 24 hours after our phone call, charged me twice as much as the first LC, and was not helpful. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Carter's resistance to nursing---how he wouldn't latch on because of the intensely strong arching (he didn't just arch when it came time to nurse, he arched a lot throughout the whole day in general with his screams---to the point that we often wondered if something was wrong with him until we learned about high needs babies). She would try to latch him on for me, but he was pushing his head so far back, she couldn't move him forward. And when she would finally get him on, she too could not get a latch that wasn't painful for me, or didn't cause vasospasm. She attempted to use a nipple shield (mainly to heal my nipples), but I hated it, and Carter hated it even more. Mostly though, she spent so much time telling me what he SHOULD be doing to latch on properly rather then assisting me to get him latched. Then she told me our hour is up, and I needed to pay her and she had to leave. She was also very late in arriving to begin with because she said she was on a phone call. She didn't bother calling to tell me she would be late. She also had me using several pillows to get Carter in a better position for latching/nursing, and it was all so intimidating and confusing. I wanted to shred the pillows and throw them at her.
I felt absolutely defeated after this visit. I was pretty much crying to her as she was leaving. She basically told me that this is why most women give up nursing by X week post-partum. She told me if I needed a break, I could pump for a while. That was something that was already on my mind. My mental sanity, and my nipples, just couldn't take it anymore. But I was not going to deny my son the breastmilk he deserved. So that was it, and I started to exclusively pump. I was using a single electric Medela pump, and it just wasn't getting enough milk expressed. And it was taking SO long to get just a couple of ounces out of because I had to do one breast at a time. I knew this was not the pump that would keep my supply up if I was going to be going this route for a while. I had to go out and buy bottles and emergency formula (because I needed to feed him something while I pumped). I felt so extremely awful, guilty, and ashamed giving him this nasty smelling junk food produced in a factory. But I also knew it was temporary. I was embarrassed and didn't want ANYONE knowing that my son was going to get a drop of formula. At the same time, I seriously thought I was going to hurt myself if I didn't get a break. And this was only going to last until I had a little stash of pumped milk starting up for him. So I decided to rent a hosptial grade double Medela pump from a local breastfeeding store. While I was there, I had the lactation counselor look at my nipples and Carter's tongue to see the damage, and get an opinion on tongue tie. She said his suck on her finger was healthy & fine, and it did not appear that he had tongue tie at all (and the first LC I saw also never said anything when she checked his suck). I just always seemed to notice that his tongue was sort of short, and when he cried, it did not jut out of his mouth very far at all. She fitted me for the horns for the pump, and we were off. I also picked up a tincture to increase my milk supply because I knew that the pump would not give me the same output that a baby nursing on me would.
Back at home, I started pumping immediately. this new pump was DEFINITELY doing a better job (and at a much faster rate) then the single pump. And it was more comfortable, smoothe, and quiet. But I was still either pumping JUST ENOUGH milk for him on a daily basis, or I would be short some ounces everyday. It was so frustrating, and I did NOT want to have to rely on supplementing with formula. It was such hard work. If I wasn't taking care of his needs constantly (and remember, he was very high needs), I was pumping. That was my life. I had to pump 8-10 times a day to keep my supply up. I had to pump throughout the night too. Not that he wasn't waking up at night anyway, but it meant I REALLY had to wake up, get out of bed, and get the pump going. It sucked. I even had to get a converter kit for the car so if we went out as a family for a full day or anything, I had the pump with me since I wasn't nursing. Every morning I would wake up, and the first thing on my mind would be, "Am I going to pump enough today? Will I get more ounces out today then yesterday? I wonder how much I'm going to pump today?" It was my life. And in between caring for my son and pumping, I had bottles and pump parts to clean. Ugh, it was terrible. The worry of not pumping enough to meet his demands was overwhelming (and sometimes true), so I ate lots of oatmeal and lactation cookies---I also drank lots of water and mother's milk tea, continued taking the tincture I purchased at the breastfeeding store, and started taking fenugreek and blessed thistle. I would also read about tricks to getting your body to think your baby is having a growth spurt, or is cluster feeding---and I would do that with the pump. I found a very informal "EP Mentor" to help me out too, as she EP'd for her daughter due to similar situations. And I joined online communites of EP-ing mamas. It was very helpful, but I still felt so isolated, defeated, embarrassed. My goal was still to get Carter back to the breast. I found that all the supplements and constant pumping helped me produce a little more output with the pump, but not always enough---and when Carter was having growth spurts, I was short many more ounces then I had hoped for. So I went ahead and ordered Domperidone just in case. I didn't want to take it, but I was out of ideas. I took it for just a short while. I felt like it helped a bit---I was at least pumping enough for him on a daily basis.
I was so depressed about not having a nursing relationship with my son. Sure, at first the pumping made me feel so much better mentally, and it sure healed my nipples! But I was really mourning what I always wanted to have with breastfeeding. And I felt bad for him---I knew there was more to breastfeeding then just nutrition, and I wanted him to get that skin contact he deserved. So I started once in a while practicing getting Carter back on the breast. I would do it about an hour after I gave him a bottle so that I knew he wouldn't be super hungry & fighting me & arching his back, etc. like he used to do. It worked sort of well, it was a bit easier to get him latched then normal. I was amazed that he was going onto the breast after having had been off for a couple weeks. It wouldn't hurt at first, then round 2 or 3, my nipple would start getting pinched and/or raw again. So I'd give up and then try again a few days later, or week later. I decided to take a very relaxed approach to the whole thing so that it wasn't any mental anguish for me or Carter. I also started going to the breastfeeding support mom's groups that the first LC I saw offered at her house. I told her that I had started pumping, and she was really supportive. Every time I went, she would help me latch Carter on (she really wanted me to get him back on the breast). Sometimes it felt great, other times it pinched a bit. She kept encouraging me to be patient, and that his mouth would grow into my long nipples eventually. She promised me that I would eventually get off the pump. All of the moms in the group who went through months of nursing pain kept promising me that it literally just stopped for them overnight one day. I had hope after every mom's group I attended.
It was getting towards Thanksgiving, and I was so sick of pumping. I had been EP-ing since early October now. My husband and I decided to go walk around an outdoor shopping area one evening, and we chose to go without the pump. We knew Carter would at least latch onto my breast again, and I figured, "If it hurts while I'm nursing, its only for a little while, I can always go back to pumping when we get home. I can handle it." I was a bit nervous though---what if he wouldn't latch? Carter got hungry & I nursed him in the food court. He actually latched on without a problem and it didn't hurt! Although I noticed that he was really fussy at the breast, squirming, I could hear him swallowing lots of air, and he was super gassy. I wondered if perhaps I had created overactive letdown with all my mix of pumping, nursing in between to try to get him back to the breast, tinctures, galactagogues, herbs, teas, domperidone, etc. It seemed that he was definitely having a hard time at the breast, but at least I wasn't in pain (although I wasn't holding my breath in that department). Then my husband, baby, and I were invited to a baby shower that was about an hour away from our home. I knew it was going to be a long day, and I really didn't want to have to mess around with a pump while traveling, or while at the shower. I wanted my life back! So we packed up some bottles of expressed milk, but decided to forego the pump. I figured I was just going to try to nurse him there like I did at the food court, and hoped it would work out. Again, I nursed him there and it didn't hurt---although he was squirmy/fussy/super gassy again. The gas hurt him so bad afterwards that he was SCREAMING. I decided to call ANOTHER lactation consultant to look into this with me. Why not get ANOTHER opinion?
She came to the house the next day (she was really late, just like the previous LC because she too was on a phone call). She checked for tongue-tie and said he definitely doesn't have it. She checked his suck and said it was perfect. She told me I need to get off all these tinctures and pump or else I would be making enough milk for twins soon. Her approach was very in your face and intimidating. She was a bit loud and obnoxious, and she wanted me to use an INSANE amount of towels and pillows to get Carter properly latched on. I honestly couldn't even remember the pillow set-up 5 minutes after she left the house. I felt like she was yelling at me for all the decisions I had made throughout the whole process, and she wondered why I didn't call HER sooner. She tried to get him to nurse in a sort of football hold, thinking that I would have better control over his latch that way, and that he could not possibly arch if we had him in this hold. He would scream bloody murder when we'd latch him on in this hold. She kept forcing him to stay put as he cried, and it just felt so wrong to me. She insisted that he had insane nipple confusion and that I needed to throw out any bottle or pacifier I might have, and not give into giving it to him no matter how much he demanded it. She wanted to know the name of all of the other LC's I had seen, and started trash talking one of them. It all just felt weird. She also told me she thought there was more mentally going on with him then just a latch issue---that she thought he was hypertonic and that he might have brain damage and insisted we take him to a neurologist (as much as sometimes we thought something might be wrong with him due to his high needs behaviors/screaming too at times, this is something we never did). I never wanted to see or hear from that woman again.
After she left, I attempted to nurse Carter in my own moderated version of the football hold, and he latched just fine. He wasn't fighting it like he was with her, so I knew it wasn't nipple confusion. I was pretty sure it was overactive letdown. Now I had this to get past. He would latch on just fine, but then he would keep popping off screaming and crying and gassy. I stopped taking anything that I was previously taking to increase my milk supply. I felt so horrible sometimes with him crying so much at the breast, that I would give in and give him a bottle of my expressed milk. I contacted my AAM mentor, and she reminded me that giving into this was teaching him if he cried hard enough, he would get his bottle. But I felt so awful hurting him/choking him with my milk at the breast. I didn't know if I could do this. But I was SO SICK OF THAT PUMP! And I was so happy that so far every time I nursed him, it wasn't hurting me anymore, and my nipples FINALLY started looking normal (and not pinched) when he came off. Well, once in a while it was a bit pinched, but there seemed to be drastic improvements. So I told my husband he needed to be on my side, and that no matter what, we were NOT going to give into the bottle. Carter had to learn to get used to my spraying fast flow of milk. I bit the bullet and went for it. There was some resistance and screaming at first, followed by tons of gas. I'd hear him taking fast, huge gulps. I was then remembering how my milk used to spray when I was pumping. I was confident that this was OAL. So we took our time with it, tried lots of positions that I thought would help with the flow for him, etc. It finally seemed that side lying was working really well for him. He would do the big gulps, but he wasn't constantly popping off. Some milk would trickle out of his mouth onto the bed, but that was helpful for him. But any time we tried sitting up to nurse again, he would squirm and pop off and get really fussy. I asked the original LC about this again at her moms group, and she promised that it would just work its way out, and that I didn't really need to block feed or anything. She thought he'd just get used to it.
And that is exactly what happened. Towards Christmas time I was pretty much 100% off the pump except for "emergencies" (and the funny thing was, by around 6 months of age, he absolutely REFUSED bottles!). We were exclusively nursing again, and even though I had OAL, Carter was getting really used to dealing with it. He would still get fussy at times, and not want to nurse (but I think some of this was just mood/behavioral stuff---not necessarily always due to the flow). So every now & again he'd get a bottle, but those times were getting fewer and fewer. We took a plane ride for the first time at the end of December, and we did NOT travel with the pump (although we took a smaller one with us---but just for an emergency, not to plan to use regularly while there). I was so glad I was able to nurse him on the plane---it soothed him to sleep, and it made traveling so easy! I only pumped on the trip a couple times when my husband and I wanted to go out to eat together. Other then that, Carter was nursing about every 2 hours on demand---he was getting close to 5 months of age now. It did not hurt AT ALL since around Thanksgiving-ish. I also noticed that right at the time the pain stopped, I noticed how much his tongue had grown. It was finally jutting out of his mouth past his gumline. That first LC was right! I really feel looking back, that that is all it was. His mouth really just needed to grow.
We have since graduated from the breastfeeding mother's group we attended the entire first year. That was the best of all of the LC's I dealt with, she was a godsend. I don't know what I would have done without her support, encouragement, and the free group she hosted at her house every week. The other LC's I saw were terrible. I have also since found a new great La Leche League meeting near my house (that is 1000 times better then the first one I attended).
Teeth have not affected us at all. Ok, he sorta bit me once (and yes, it did draw blood)---but it was NOT purposeful. He wasn't paying attention (this is when he started becoming a distracted one boob at a time nurser around 6 months old). He was looking off at something while nursing, and lost his latch. His bottom teeth pinched in, I screamed, it made him scared (and boy did he cry). Nothing like that has happened again. Sometimes I notice his latch is off when he is getting a new tooth in, but it is nothing like the pain I endured in those early months. And it goes away after a few days or so anyway. He's got about 9 teeth now, and is working on more---and no issues! He's now 14 1/2 months old (and possibly over 30" tall and 25-ish lbs---go boob juice!), and he is still quite a big nurser. In fact, he still barely cares about solids. I'm definitely still his main source of nutrition. We still bedshare all night, I still nurse on demand, and nursing just gets better and better and better. I love it, he loves it. I'm pretty sure I still have OAL, but he is SO used to it by now, it doesn't affect him. He's just accustomed to taking big 'ole gulps. Its funny because I see him drink water out of a straw really fast with gigantic gulps that he loses his breath---I assume it's because he is just used to drinking that way from my boobs! Nursing is SO EASY now. Sure, we have small challenges here and there that I'd like to see improve---but he does all the work now--the challenges are nothing like they used to be, and I know they'll improve in his own time. He can pretty much just walk up to my boob and latch on while standing if he wants. All I have to do is lift my shirt (and he even does THAT himself sometimes). Such a different world then those early days! Amazing. I couldn't be happier that I stuck with it for SO many reasons---the security it provides him, the calmness it gives him if he falls down and gets hurt, how easy it is to travel, it puts him to sleep for naps and bedtime, it soothes him down immediately when he has his night wake-ups (which he still has several of), it gives us a nice time-out for bonding, and all of the wonderful, perfect nutrition it provides him (and since he doesn't really care much about solids, thank god we're still nursing!)---plus all of the good it does for my health/body! I absolutely love breastfeeding, and I am so passionate about everything surrounding it. I have been 100% going the child-led weaning route, and plan to nurse Carter for as long as he wishes. I've been through so much, and I just want to help other mama's. I think I could provide so much encouragement and information---and I've been there! If I got through it, anyone can---no excuses! I'm also considering becoming a La Leche League leader, and possibly an IBCLC one day.
I had an awesome, uncomplicated home water birth with my midwife, doula, and husband present. Seven hours of labor, and Carter was out. We started nursing probably within a half hour of his birth. I quickly realized how different it is to nurse an actual human being then the doll I had practiced on with my doula. Newborns are squirmy, slippery, and can't hold their own heads up. So there is a lot of maneuvering to get a brand-new baby latched onto your breast properly. It took a few tries because Carter wouldn't open his mouth wide enough. As I was sitting there in bed feeding my brand new boy, I wondered if I was going to be able to do it on my own later on. It was a lot trickier then I had expected.
My placenta was taking a long time to come out, so my midwife recommended that I squat at the next contraction. It worked, and I gave birth to that massive organ. And then a ton of blood. The bleeding wouldn't stop. I didn't know any different because I was always told that there was a lot of blood with birthing, but apparently this was too much blood. Every time my midwife put pressure on my uterus, blood squirt out of me like a garden hose. I was too shocked to be scared, but I saw the fear in my midwife and doula's eyes. My midwife looked me in the eyes and said, "Heather, you HAVE to stop bleeding." My doula kept reminding me to do the opposite of what I was doing while birthing---when I was in labor, I was reminded to continually imagine my cervix opening up. Now I was told to CLOSE IT SHUT, CLOSE IT SHUT, CLOSE IT SHUT! I was administered pitocin in my leg (boy did it burn) by my midwife while my doula put some drops of shephard's purse in my mouth to stop the bleeding. Then I think I remember a spoonful of agave nectar, recharge (electrolyte drink), and bee pollen were also poured into my mouth to get sugars and vitamins/minerals quickly into my bloodstream due to all the blood loss. I had to hand Carter over to Brian (my husband) while all of this was happening. I felt lucky to know that Carter had gotten at least an hour of direct skin-to-skin contact first, and got a real good nursing session in there before the catastrophe hit. The bleeding stopped, but I was dizzy. I felt myself fading, and told them that I was really dizzy while I was shaking my head around. My midwife brought in the oxygen machine, and put the oxygen mask on me. It started to help pretty quickly. But I was also nauseous. Some time went by, and my midwife kept tending to me to make sure that the bleeding had really stopped. Carter was resting peacefully on Brian's chest next to me. My midwife massaged my uterus in increments, and no more blood was coming out. So she eventually started the vitals on Carter. As she was weighing and measuring him, I asked for something to puke in, and I began to vomit. It was awful, but it felt so good after. Until a few minutes later when I felt the urge again. I dry-heaved several times. I was so sad to have to feel so disconnected from everything going on at this moment though. My birth went so beautifully and amazingly that it was such a drag to have this happen later on. But I was alive, I was going to be fine, and I had a perfectly healthy baby boy born 8 lbs 10 oz.
I pretty much nursed him nonstop once he was awake again. I nursed on demand, and he stayed on the breast for very long periods of time. I could still tell that his latch was a bit tight, but I figured it would work itself out over the next week or two. He slept in our bed with us (he still does to this day), and I would nurse him throughout the night. I was still too weak to get out of bed (I even needed assistance going to the toilet---all the blood loss left me really dizzy, and anemic), so I nursed him hunched over against the headboard all day. Not the best position for a good latch. I felt so sick and nauseated too, and barely had an appetite at all. I had to force-feed myself a few bites of anything. This lasted for about two weeks (until my hemoglobin came back up and I wasn't anemic anymore).
To add to how sick I was feeling, I also started to become very anxious. Nights were hard, and days were getting harder too. Carter's latch was starting to cause a pretty good amount of pain by the 2nd night, and by the 3rd day, he screamed nonstop. His high needs temperament had begun (yes, I have a high needs baby---he has gotten so much easier the older he gets, but the first 6 months were often torture). I've heard babies cry before, and I grew up with several siblings---but this was a type of cry I had never heard out of a human baby. It sounded as if I was killing him---the highest, ear-piercing shrieks. He screamed unless he was constantly on the breast. It wasn't that I minded nursing him 24/7---this was the sort of thing I was expecting with a newborn. But it hurt so incredibly bad the entire time he would nurse (and he wanted to stay on for hours). Latching him on was difficult as well, and the initial latch felt like 100 needles going through my nipples and slowly cutting them off. I didn't know it could possibly be this hard. It was a physical and emotional challenge I didn't quite expect. I did everything I can to try to distract myself during each nursing session so I didn't have to feel the pain---like watched funny TV shows or had my husband massage my shoulders. But it only did so much. Later on that afternoon, blood trickled out of Carter's mouth. My husband and I freaked out and immediately called our midwife. She said unless my nipples were bleeding, this wasn't normal. I ran to the bathroom to get a good look at my breasts. Yep, my nipples were torn up---scabs were forming and there was some blood. They were so raw! At least I knew he wasn't hemorrhaging though. He was just swallowing the blood from my nipples that he was shredding. I asked my husband to please make a phone call to one of the lactation consultants on the list our doula left with us. He randomly chose one based on how close she lived to us, the fact that she was an IBCLC, and that she was also a nurse. I didn't realize at the time how lucky I was that he picked possibly one of the best gifts I could have gotten for my first year with my son. She said she would come by the following morning, right before our first scheduled pediatrician appointment.
The next day my nipples were pretty wounded---bubbly looking scabs. Every time Carter nursed, it was like he was ripping the scab off and starting a new, raw wound again. I wanted to die. He was still screaming and crying an awful lot too. I absolutely dreaded every feeding, and I knew they were constantly coming up. I had so much anxiety about them nonstop. But I couldn't handle his insane shrieks in between either (and I'm extrememly AP-oriented, so I don't believe in letting babies cry). So I let him continually nurse on my wounded breasts and just bit a pillow or blanket or cried throughout the feedings. Until the LC showed up. She brought a scale along to do pre-and post-weight checks so we could see how much milk he was getting. My milk was definitely in by now (it had come in the day before). She knew I was anemic by her first glance at me (I was whiter then a ghost). She said that my appetite would probably come back in the upcoming week or two. I was so nervous to give her all of the control to latch him onto my breast for me (because I was nervous enough doing it myself). She latched him on very quickly (much faster then I was doing---I think I was so slow because all of the anxious anticipation I was building up), and it didn't hurt AT ALL when she did it! So I knew there was hope. She also had me nurse on the couch with good posture, and not slouched over in bed. She taught me how to use a pillow and the Boppy to get him to a better height at my breast/nipple (which really helps with a proper latch). He was also easier to manage this way. She explained how to hold his head so that I get him onto the breast at a proper angle, and how to get him to open his mouth wide. He also spit up the most I had seen since I started nursing---I assumed that with a better latch, he was getting much more milk. And the scale showed that. He was definitely getting several ounces out! His weight was looking good (I think it said 8 lbs 2 oz, or maybe 5 oz, I'm not sure). I felt so much more confident, but I was still so nervous that once she left, I wasn't going to be able to do this on my own. She gave me awesome nipple cooling gel pads, told me to make sure to use my Lansinoh, and gave me instructions on icing my engorged breasts. Then she told me about her free mothers breastfeeding support/natural, AP parenting-oriented group that she holds every Thursday morning at her house. I was amazed! That was totally my cup of tea. She said I was welcome any time, and to just walk in. She explained that I could go up until Carter hits one year in age (she said she still encourages moms to continue nursing beyond that, but it gets too crowded if she allows everyone to keep coming after a year).
We left the house and got into the car with our son for the first time since the birth. He screamed almost the whole way there, desperately looking for something to suck on. I nursed him when we arrived, and I seemed to do an ok job getting a non-painful latch on my own for the first time. He even seemed satisfied afterwards, so I figured with a good latch came good milk intake. The doctor weighed him, and the scale said 7 lbs 14 oz (or something close to it). Several ounces different then the midwife and LC's scales. Luckily the ped is very pro-breastfeeding. They told me to nurse him on my now better latch for several days, and then come in again for a weight check. We did that, but the scale read the exact same weight again. Still different then the midwife's scale though. So I waited a week and went in once more---it read 8 lbs 10 oz. Back to birth weight! I was congratulated by my very impressed pediatrician for doing this on my breastmilk alone, and giving my baby the best gift. It felt so good.
But soon enough, my nipples were killing me again, and still raw and scabbed. Nursing was hurting like hell, and I noticed that Carter's tongue was white. I suspected thrush. Every feeding felt like someone was sawing my nipples off. I called the lactation consultant. She came over instantly, helped me with the latch again (I wasn't doing it optimally), and said that yes, it appeared that he had thrush---and I probably did too. She talked about natural remedies for treating it, and to call the doctor if they didn't clear it up. Nothing was working, so I called the pediatrician and got us on Nystatin. That worked. But it still hurt to nurse! He was still screaming all of the time, and I was dreading feedings even more. I was losing confidence. I went to a local breastfeeding store, and the owner talked to me further about latching, and helped me out a little. She also assisted me in latching him on while in the Moby wrap (since he wanted to be attached to my boob 24/7). I felt motivated with a small burst of confidence again. I was also desperate at this point with his constant need to suck, so I gave in and came home with a pacifier (something that I had sworn I'd never use---and definitely not this eary in the game). He wouldn't accpet it anyway.
Still, it all continued to go downhill. Not only was the latch terrible and tight (I now got vasospasm with each nursing---my nipple would come off pinched like a lipstick tube, white as a ghost, and would BURN), but getting him to even latch on was quite a long, dreadful fiasco. He would thrash around, arch his back and SCREAM, and his arms would flail all over the place. The arching made it impossible to even get him close to the breast, and with his flailing arms, I needed two people to get him latched (one to hold his arms down, one to latch him on). Thank god my husband works from home. He would come out, and I would have to tickle Carter's mouth with my fingers to get him moving toward the breast at all while Brian held down Carter's arms. Between 5 and 15 minutes later, I would FINALLY get him latched. But it was always a terrible, painful latch. I didn't want to go through another 10 minutes of screaming, holding baby down, arching mess, so I always just let him nurse on a bad latch (which would grind my nipples up further). It was awful, I would scream and cry along with the baby. I didn't feel like I was bonding with him at all---I felt bad for him, but I was also resentful towards him. I know that wasn't fair, but I was just not in a good place mentally anymore. I kept saying I want to kill myself and that breastfeeding was ruining my life, my relationship with my baby, and my marriage. My husband and I would fight all of the time because between the breastfeeding issues, and Carter's CONSTANT screamfests, we were both so stressed out. Not to forget the insane lack of sleep we were getting. But I was stubborn, and I wasn't going to give up without a good fight. Heck, I wasn't planning on giving up at all. I KNEW my case was severe, I KNEW it just HAD to eventually improve. I had never met anyone who had quite this amount of trouble nursing their newborn. I've heard of sore nipples, sure---but not all of this! There was no way my son was going to get formula though! And I felt like I didn't have much support around me. My mother had not breastfed. My mother-in-law never breastfed. I didn't want to tell them about anything I was going through because I didn't want to hear the "its ok if it doesn't work out, there is always formula" or "just give him a bottle." I felt alone, and I knew I was THE ONLY ONE who could do this work. My husband couldn't nurse Carter for me. I even contacted someone from a local La Leche League group, and showed up at the meeting. I got no support at the meeting at all. They talked about baby supplies (not necessarily breastfeeding related ones) the entire time, then at the very last 5 minutes or so asked if anyone was having problems. They knew that was why I was there (I gave the leader a huge rundown of my story the day before the meeting). She just read things that it could possibly be from a guidebook (the same guidebook I already had at home, and had already read 100 times myself). I walked out of the meeting with a screaming baby, and with a new feeling helplessness. I wanted to run away.
I posted on the breastfeeding community to give them my nursing story up until now, vent, and ask for encouragement. I got tons of support, some women even offered me to email them or call them at home! I was amazed. A lot of them said they had similar things happen in the beginning, and promised me that it gets SO MUCH BETTER. I believed them, and held onto hope. So many of them told me that by 6 weeks, things would probably get a lot easier. I knew I could hold on. I also got a message from janisfan from this post asking if I had an adopt a mom mentor, or if I would like one. She said that she was an AAM, and would be happy to take me on if I wanted. I had applied a while back to get an AAM, but I never heard anything, so I was more then happy to receive her help. She was fantastic, and answered my emails SO quickly. She filled my inbox with links and videos and incredibly useful information. In between painful nursings, I would do nothing but read about proper latching/breastfeeding techniques, watch videos on how to get the baby to latch on properly, and study photographs too. But no matter how much research I did, no matter how much I practiced, I just couldn't get a good latch. I swear, the term "latch" at this point was starting to sound like nails on a chalkboard to me. My entire life was based on latch latch latch. I had nothing else going on, nothing else to talk to anyone about. I had a screaming, arching baby who wouldn't latch, and when he did, the constant pain 12 times a day was worse then being in labor. I would have given birth once a day at this point just to make the breastfeeding situation better.
Six weeks came and went, I got my first breastfeeding achievement ribbon, but nursing was STILL painful. Some moms on the breastfeeding community told me it took them at least 8 weeks until it stopped hurting for them, and to just hold on.
I took some advice from my mentor, and from some of the women on the breastfeeding community, and called another IBCLC for a second opinion. Carter was now 8 weeks old, and things were still just as terrible. Maybe someone else would flow with me better? She came over 24 hours after our phone call, charged me twice as much as the first LC, and was not helpful. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Carter's resistance to nursing---how he wouldn't latch on because of the intensely strong arching (he didn't just arch when it came time to nurse, he arched a lot throughout the whole day in general with his screams---to the point that we often wondered if something was wrong with him until we learned about high needs babies). She would try to latch him on for me, but he was pushing his head so far back, she couldn't move him forward. And when she would finally get him on, she too could not get a latch that wasn't painful for me, or didn't cause vasospasm. She attempted to use a nipple shield (mainly to heal my nipples), but I hated it, and Carter hated it even more. Mostly though, she spent so much time telling me what he SHOULD be doing to latch on properly rather then assisting me to get him latched. Then she told me our hour is up, and I needed to pay her and she had to leave. She was also very late in arriving to begin with because she said she was on a phone call. She didn't bother calling to tell me she would be late. She also had me using several pillows to get Carter in a better position for latching/nursing, and it was all so intimidating and confusing. I wanted to shred the pillows and throw them at her.
I felt absolutely defeated after this visit. I was pretty much crying to her as she was leaving. She basically told me that this is why most women give up nursing by X week post-partum. She told me if I needed a break, I could pump for a while. That was something that was already on my mind. My mental sanity, and my nipples, just couldn't take it anymore. But I was not going to deny my son the breastmilk he deserved. So that was it, and I started to exclusively pump. I was using a single electric Medela pump, and it just wasn't getting enough milk expressed. And it was taking SO long to get just a couple of ounces out of because I had to do one breast at a time. I knew this was not the pump that would keep my supply up if I was going to be going this route for a while. I had to go out and buy bottles and emergency formula (because I needed to feed him something while I pumped). I felt so extremely awful, guilty, and ashamed giving him this nasty smelling junk food produced in a factory. But I also knew it was temporary. I was embarrassed and didn't want ANYONE knowing that my son was going to get a drop of formula. At the same time, I seriously thought I was going to hurt myself if I didn't get a break. And this was only going to last until I had a little stash of pumped milk starting up for him. So I decided to rent a hosptial grade double Medela pump from a local breastfeeding store. While I was there, I had the lactation counselor look at my nipples and Carter's tongue to see the damage, and get an opinion on tongue tie. She said his suck on her finger was healthy & fine, and it did not appear that he had tongue tie at all (and the first LC I saw also never said anything when she checked his suck). I just always seemed to notice that his tongue was sort of short, and when he cried, it did not jut out of his mouth very far at all. She fitted me for the horns for the pump, and we were off. I also picked up a tincture to increase my milk supply because I knew that the pump would not give me the same output that a baby nursing on me would.
Back at home, I started pumping immediately. this new pump was DEFINITELY doing a better job (and at a much faster rate) then the single pump. And it was more comfortable, smoothe, and quiet. But I was still either pumping JUST ENOUGH milk for him on a daily basis, or I would be short some ounces everyday. It was so frustrating, and I did NOT want to have to rely on supplementing with formula. It was such hard work. If I wasn't taking care of his needs constantly (and remember, he was very high needs), I was pumping. That was my life. I had to pump 8-10 times a day to keep my supply up. I had to pump throughout the night too. Not that he wasn't waking up at night anyway, but it meant I REALLY had to wake up, get out of bed, and get the pump going. It sucked. I even had to get a converter kit for the car so if we went out as a family for a full day or anything, I had the pump with me since I wasn't nursing. Every morning I would wake up, and the first thing on my mind would be, "Am I going to pump enough today? Will I get more ounces out today then yesterday? I wonder how much I'm going to pump today?" It was my life. And in between caring for my son and pumping, I had bottles and pump parts to clean. Ugh, it was terrible. The worry of not pumping enough to meet his demands was overwhelming (and sometimes true), so I ate lots of oatmeal and lactation cookies---I also drank lots of water and mother's milk tea, continued taking the tincture I purchased at the breastfeeding store, and started taking fenugreek and blessed thistle. I would also read about tricks to getting your body to think your baby is having a growth spurt, or is cluster feeding---and I would do that with the pump. I found a very informal "EP Mentor" to help me out too, as she EP'd for her daughter due to similar situations. And I joined online communites of EP-ing mamas. It was very helpful, but I still felt so isolated, defeated, embarrassed. My goal was still to get Carter back to the breast. I found that all the supplements and constant pumping helped me produce a little more output with the pump, but not always enough---and when Carter was having growth spurts, I was short many more ounces then I had hoped for. So I went ahead and ordered Domperidone just in case. I didn't want to take it, but I was out of ideas. I took it for just a short while. I felt like it helped a bit---I was at least pumping enough for him on a daily basis.
I was so depressed about not having a nursing relationship with my son. Sure, at first the pumping made me feel so much better mentally, and it sure healed my nipples! But I was really mourning what I always wanted to have with breastfeeding. And I felt bad for him---I knew there was more to breastfeeding then just nutrition, and I wanted him to get that skin contact he deserved. So I started once in a while practicing getting Carter back on the breast. I would do it about an hour after I gave him a bottle so that I knew he wouldn't be super hungry & fighting me & arching his back, etc. like he used to do. It worked sort of well, it was a bit easier to get him latched then normal. I was amazed that he was going onto the breast after having had been off for a couple weeks. It wouldn't hurt at first, then round 2 or 3, my nipple would start getting pinched and/or raw again. So I'd give up and then try again a few days later, or week later. I decided to take a very relaxed approach to the whole thing so that it wasn't any mental anguish for me or Carter. I also started going to the breastfeeding support mom's groups that the first LC I saw offered at her house. I told her that I had started pumping, and she was really supportive. Every time I went, she would help me latch Carter on (she really wanted me to get him back on the breast). Sometimes it felt great, other times it pinched a bit. She kept encouraging me to be patient, and that his mouth would grow into my long nipples eventually. She promised me that I would eventually get off the pump. All of the moms in the group who went through months of nursing pain kept promising me that it literally just stopped for them overnight one day. I had hope after every mom's group I attended.
It was getting towards Thanksgiving, and I was so sick of pumping. I had been EP-ing since early October now. My husband and I decided to go walk around an outdoor shopping area one evening, and we chose to go without the pump. We knew Carter would at least latch onto my breast again, and I figured, "If it hurts while I'm nursing, its only for a little while, I can always go back to pumping when we get home. I can handle it." I was a bit nervous though---what if he wouldn't latch? Carter got hungry & I nursed him in the food court. He actually latched on without a problem and it didn't hurt! Although I noticed that he was really fussy at the breast, squirming, I could hear him swallowing lots of air, and he was super gassy. I wondered if perhaps I had created overactive letdown with all my mix of pumping, nursing in between to try to get him back to the breast, tinctures, galactagogues, herbs, teas, domperidone, etc. It seemed that he was definitely having a hard time at the breast, but at least I wasn't in pain (although I wasn't holding my breath in that department). Then my husband, baby, and I were invited to a baby shower that was about an hour away from our home. I knew it was going to be a long day, and I really didn't want to have to mess around with a pump while traveling, or while at the shower. I wanted my life back! So we packed up some bottles of expressed milk, but decided to forego the pump. I figured I was just going to try to nurse him there like I did at the food court, and hoped it would work out. Again, I nursed him there and it didn't hurt---although he was squirmy/fussy/super gassy again. The gas hurt him so bad afterwards that he was SCREAMING. I decided to call ANOTHER lactation consultant to look into this with me. Why not get ANOTHER opinion?
She came to the house the next day (she was really late, just like the previous LC because she too was on a phone call). She checked for tongue-tie and said he definitely doesn't have it. She checked his suck and said it was perfect. She told me I need to get off all these tinctures and pump or else I would be making enough milk for twins soon. Her approach was very in your face and intimidating. She was a bit loud and obnoxious, and she wanted me to use an INSANE amount of towels and pillows to get Carter properly latched on. I honestly couldn't even remember the pillow set-up 5 minutes after she left the house. I felt like she was yelling at me for all the decisions I had made throughout the whole process, and she wondered why I didn't call HER sooner. She tried to get him to nurse in a sort of football hold, thinking that I would have better control over his latch that way, and that he could not possibly arch if we had him in this hold. He would scream bloody murder when we'd latch him on in this hold. She kept forcing him to stay put as he cried, and it just felt so wrong to me. She insisted that he had insane nipple confusion and that I needed to throw out any bottle or pacifier I might have, and not give into giving it to him no matter how much he demanded it. She wanted to know the name of all of the other LC's I had seen, and started trash talking one of them. It all just felt weird. She also told me she thought there was more mentally going on with him then just a latch issue---that she thought he was hypertonic and that he might have brain damage and insisted we take him to a neurologist (as much as sometimes we thought something might be wrong with him due to his high needs behaviors/screaming too at times, this is something we never did). I never wanted to see or hear from that woman again.
After she left, I attempted to nurse Carter in my own moderated version of the football hold, and he latched just fine. He wasn't fighting it like he was with her, so I knew it wasn't nipple confusion. I was pretty sure it was overactive letdown. Now I had this to get past. He would latch on just fine, but then he would keep popping off screaming and crying and gassy. I stopped taking anything that I was previously taking to increase my milk supply. I felt so horrible sometimes with him crying so much at the breast, that I would give in and give him a bottle of my expressed milk. I contacted my AAM mentor, and she reminded me that giving into this was teaching him if he cried hard enough, he would get his bottle. But I felt so awful hurting him/choking him with my milk at the breast. I didn't know if I could do this. But I was SO SICK OF THAT PUMP! And I was so happy that so far every time I nursed him, it wasn't hurting me anymore, and my nipples FINALLY started looking normal (and not pinched) when he came off. Well, once in a while it was a bit pinched, but there seemed to be drastic improvements. So I told my husband he needed to be on my side, and that no matter what, we were NOT going to give into the bottle. Carter had to learn to get used to my spraying fast flow of milk. I bit the bullet and went for it. There was some resistance and screaming at first, followed by tons of gas. I'd hear him taking fast, huge gulps. I was then remembering how my milk used to spray when I was pumping. I was confident that this was OAL. So we took our time with it, tried lots of positions that I thought would help with the flow for him, etc. It finally seemed that side lying was working really well for him. He would do the big gulps, but he wasn't constantly popping off. Some milk would trickle out of his mouth onto the bed, but that was helpful for him. But any time we tried sitting up to nurse again, he would squirm and pop off and get really fussy. I asked the original LC about this again at her moms group, and she promised that it would just work its way out, and that I didn't really need to block feed or anything. She thought he'd just get used to it.
And that is exactly what happened. Towards Christmas time I was pretty much 100% off the pump except for "emergencies" (and the funny thing was, by around 6 months of age, he absolutely REFUSED bottles!). We were exclusively nursing again, and even though I had OAL, Carter was getting really used to dealing with it. He would still get fussy at times, and not want to nurse (but I think some of this was just mood/behavioral stuff---not necessarily always due to the flow). So every now & again he'd get a bottle, but those times were getting fewer and fewer. We took a plane ride for the first time at the end of December, and we did NOT travel with the pump (although we took a smaller one with us---but just for an emergency, not to plan to use regularly while there). I was so glad I was able to nurse him on the plane---it soothed him to sleep, and it made traveling so easy! I only pumped on the trip a couple times when my husband and I wanted to go out to eat together. Other then that, Carter was nursing about every 2 hours on demand---he was getting close to 5 months of age now. It did not hurt AT ALL since around Thanksgiving-ish. I also noticed that right at the time the pain stopped, I noticed how much his tongue had grown. It was finally jutting out of his mouth past his gumline. That first LC was right! I really feel looking back, that that is all it was. His mouth really just needed to grow.
We have since graduated from the breastfeeding mother's group we attended the entire first year. That was the best of all of the LC's I dealt with, she was a godsend. I don't know what I would have done without her support, encouragement, and the free group she hosted at her house every week. The other LC's I saw were terrible. I have also since found a new great La Leche League meeting near my house (that is 1000 times better then the first one I attended).
Teeth have not affected us at all. Ok, he sorta bit me once (and yes, it did draw blood)---but it was NOT purposeful. He wasn't paying attention (this is when he started becoming a distracted one boob at a time nurser around 6 months old). He was looking off at something while nursing, and lost his latch. His bottom teeth pinched in, I screamed, it made him scared (and boy did he cry). Nothing like that has happened again. Sometimes I notice his latch is off when he is getting a new tooth in, but it is nothing like the pain I endured in those early months. And it goes away after a few days or so anyway. He's got about 9 teeth now, and is working on more---and no issues! He's now 14 1/2 months old (and possibly over 30" tall and 25-ish lbs---go boob juice!), and he is still quite a big nurser. In fact, he still barely cares about solids. I'm definitely still his main source of nutrition. We still bedshare all night, I still nurse on demand, and nursing just gets better and better and better. I love it, he loves it. I'm pretty sure I still have OAL, but he is SO used to it by now, it doesn't affect him. He's just accustomed to taking big 'ole gulps. Its funny because I see him drink water out of a straw really fast with gigantic gulps that he loses his breath---I assume it's because he is just used to drinking that way from my boobs! Nursing is SO EASY now. Sure, we have small challenges here and there that I'd like to see improve---but he does all the work now--the challenges are nothing like they used to be, and I know they'll improve in his own time. He can pretty much just walk up to my boob and latch on while standing if he wants. All I have to do is lift my shirt (and he even does THAT himself sometimes). Such a different world then those early days! Amazing. I couldn't be happier that I stuck with it for SO many reasons---the security it provides him, the calmness it gives him if he falls down and gets hurt, how easy it is to travel, it puts him to sleep for naps and bedtime, it soothes him down immediately when he has his night wake-ups (which he still has several of), it gives us a nice time-out for bonding, and all of the wonderful, perfect nutrition it provides him (and since he doesn't really care much about solids, thank god we're still nursing!)---plus all of the good it does for my health/body! I absolutely love breastfeeding, and I am so passionate about everything surrounding it. I have been 100% going the child-led weaning route, and plan to nurse Carter for as long as he wishes. I've been through so much, and I just want to help other mama's. I think I could provide so much encouragement and information---and I've been there! If I got through it, anyone can---no excuses! I'm also considering becoming a La Leche League leader, and possibly an IBCLC one day.