The Blog of a Mad Breastfeeding Mama!

(not to be confused with Tyler Perry's Play: Diary of a Mad Black Woman!)

Anyone who has talked to me in the past 3 months, knows my obsession with breastfeeding my second child. No one knows this better than my mother, who never really understood my need to at least attempt with every effort to breastfeed this baby. I did not breast feed my first. I tried, and gave up within a matter of hours of being home from the hospital. This time around, I was going to give it my all! I was going to conquer the breastfeeding monster that had defeated me last time. And let me tell you, there was support everywhere! I just so happened to get the hospital room next to the lactation consultant (yes, to my brother's disbelief, there really is such a person), whose sole responsibility, according to her job description, is to provide lactation management services to expectant and new parents. I told EVERYONE that entered my room, including the unsuspecting cousin of the patient in the next room, that I was hell bent on breastfeeding. Every shift change, I gave the same explicit directions: NO pacifiers! NO bottles! NO formula! under any circumstances. Well, the no pacifier thing only lasted through 2 shift changes, but I held steadfast on the other two.

Every nurse that entered my room was instructed to help me with latching. I attended a class held right across the hall from my room. I read everything I could get my hands on...at least, while I wasn't practicing the various different holds, or positioning pillows so that I was holding her appropriately, while protecting my new 12 inch scar on my belly. Now....all the pictures in all the literature and books I read show a wonderful, pleasant, calming experience. I had all of that in the hospital. Well, maybe not pleasant since my nipples were cracked and bleeding. The upside to this is that cracked and bleeding nipples now rate you a free electric breast pump, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood health insurance company, which shall remain nameless for the berating they may receive further along in this entry...that's right...there's more, so go pop your self a bowl of popcorn(or order one up from my Uncle Brian...his is the best), and settle in for the night..this may take a while!

The bonus of having a C-Section, is that I had 5 days in the hospital to work with the nurses and the lactation consultant, and by the time we left the hospital, with hand pump (electric will be delivered directly to my home for no additional charge), literature, and phone numbers of every lactation consultant in the area, I had this breastfeeding thing down pat. Feed every 2.5 hours. 10-15 minutes on each side, and everyone will be happy. Well, discharge took forever, and by the time we made the 45 minute drive home, It was well past 2.5 hours, not to mention that baby was quietly sleeping in her infant carrier. Wake a sleeping infant? If that does not go against conventional wisdom, I do not know what does. But woke her I did. And what seemed so easy, yet painful, at the hospital, no longer worked. She screamed, she cried, as if she was petrified of my breast. We first tried feeding her breast milk with a medicine dropper. That seemed to frustrate her even more. I finally gave in and gave her a bottle. And that was what we did for 3 days. I would pump, and feed her, and pump and feed her. I called EVERYONE, and immediately broke into tears. My doctor, her doctor, the lactation consultant. I made an appointment for her to come to my house. She assured me that we would get "back to the breast!". We had a checkup with the doctor, and found out that she had lost weight. This is normal, or doctor told us. They usually drop a few ounces from their original birth weight, and he assured us that she would gain it back. He was less optimistic than the Lactation Consultant about us going back to breastfeeding, but he said it was not impossible. We would just have to see what tomorrow held for us!

My New BFF:
Kathy the Lactation Consultant

It had been two weeks since Madison was born. We had successfully breastfeed in the hospital. We could not get it together at home, and I could not figure out what I had done wrong. I had definitely entered a state of depression. Why was this so difficult for me? I felt like a failure as a mother. My mom and my husband kept telling me to relax, that I was trying my best, and it just didn't work for some people. That made me even more determined to prove them wrong! I had seen friends and family members do this. It didn't look so tough! I couldn't talk to anyone that called. I would immediately burst into tears, so my mom fielded the phone calls for me. She would tell every one of the well-wishers that called that I was doing okay, but that I was having a hard time breastfeeding. That I would soon be meeting with the Lactation Consultant, and that she hoped that would help in one way or another.

Some callers, like my amazing cousin Samantha, shared stories with her about their own difficulties breastfeeding. Others, like my Aunt Cherie, the one family member each turn to with all things medical, said to beware of the Lactation Consultant, they could be considered "Breast Feeding Nazis" who can, at times, make women feel inadequate for not being able to breastfeed. Others, like my brother, were just amazed that there was such a thing as a Lactation Consultant. He was interested in knowing their qualifications, since his high stressed, Presidentially Appointed job did not seem half as interesting as working with boobies all day, but I guess with the current administration, it could be considered the same thing! (sorry, I couldn't resist!)

The lactation consultant, Kathy, became my new best friend. With Jamie at work, and my mom and Delaney at Wall-E, it was just me, Madison, and Kathy, and more gadgets for boobies than I have ever seen. She assured me that we would be able to do this, and if not, that it was okay, that didn't mean that there was anything wrong with me. It turns out that once my milk came in, I no longer had ideal breasts for latching. But, with some trickery, and a handy dandy nipple shield, we were SUCCESSFUL! Well, as successful as one can be, when they have to use a nipple shield and pump for 20 minutes after feeding. I was feeding every 1.5 to 2 hours around the clock, but I was not going to complain, becuase I was feeding!!

All things seemed to be going well, and that is when the screaming started. The poor child had really bad reflux, and would spit up almost everything she ate, hence, why we were feeding every 1.5 hours. I called my new BFF, in tears again, and she suggested cutting all dairy from my diet. So I did, as well as any form of caffeine. That still didn't work. She seemed to be hungry ALL the time. She was eating every hour, and with my pumping in between, I was either feeding, pumping, or cleaning. And she was still screaming.

I would have hung on forever, except for the words of my wise sage of a mother "You have 2 children now, make sure you are doing what is in the best interest of BOTH of them." I was thinking of this when I was making lunch for our 4.5 year old one day, while my husband was trying in vain to calm our screaming newborn. She came in and said "mommy, can I use these" pointing to the bottle caps that go on top of our wide mouth bottles. "Sure you can sweetie", I replied, barely aware of what she was asking for, and to preoccupied to ask why.

A few minutes later, she came in with the tubing from my pump, and asked if she could use those too. With an "umhumm" she was on her way. When I called her for lunch, she answered me in her sweet little voice "Sorry mommy, I can't. I am pumping". Now this I had to see. I made the trek upstairs, and low and behold, she had the bottle caps under her shirt, with the tubing coming out. She was telling her baby doll that she could not play a game with her because she was too busy pumping. Through tears, I told her lunch was ready, and sat down to re-think my obsession with breast feeding. I was so determined to succeed at breastfeeding, that I did not see that I was failing at being the mother of two. Something had to be done...I had to figure out a way to balance the needs of both children. Who knew that all the support I had to begin breastfeeding would not be there when I decided to stop. And who knew that something so excruciatingly painful would be so difficult to give up.

My Quest to End My Breastfeeding Debacle:
What do you get when you Google "Weaning from Breastfeeding?"

We had our good days (when Madison would eat every 2.5 hours, and sleep for 3 at night). She would nap during the day, and would smile a few times as well. Then there were our bad days. She would eat every 1.5 hours, and then scream until it was time to eat again. This would happen until 10:00 at night when she finally fell asleep, for 3 hours. The weekend before Madison's 2 month check up, we were visited by three of our Aunts. I am sorry to say that they witnessed one of Madison's bad days. She was eating every hour to hour and a half, and crying when she wasn't eating. She was also refusing to breastfeed. She couldn't latch on, with or without the nipple shield. We had been having difficulties for the past couple of days, but nothing like this. One of my loving and supportive aunts suggested giving Madison some formula. Now, this was something that had been suggested by numerous other people that I trust and whose opinions that I value (especially my husband and my mother), and a few that I don't (who shall remain nameless), but none of them (especially my husband) had ever breast fed. This advice was coming from someone who had. This aunt had successfully breastfed both of her daughters, and supplemented with formula. I decided to do it.

I started off slow. 3 oz. of breast milk, 1 oz. of formula. She LOVED it, and let me tell you, she slept like a baby (pun absolutely intended). She refused to breastfeed that night, or the next morning. That was when I noticed the white patches on the inside of her cheeks. She had white patches on her tounge and lips, but she had those at our 1 month check up and the doctor said they were just milk residue. My breasts had been incredibly sore, more so than usual. So I looked up Thrush online, and sure enough, we both had the classic systems of this strand of yeast infection. I read the causes of it, and that it was passed to her from my milk. I called the doctor, and they prescribed a medicine for her.

2 days later, I was in excrutiating pain. 800 mg of motrin was no match for the amount of pain I was having. Madison, however, was in heaven. She even woke up in the morning with a smile. No screaming. No crying. Just a happy, satiated baby. I decided there and then that we would completely wean to formula...as long as the doctor agreed. And why wouldn't HE? Because HE is a HE and could not possibly understand what it was like to breastfeed a child. Even though we both had an infection that we kept passing to one another. Even though I was virtually ignoring my other child becuase of breastfeeding, pumping, cleaning, and sanitizing. Even though Madison was misearble 14 hours of the day (the other 10 or so, she was sleeping). Even though she had bad acid reflux. Even though my family history showed that 3 of my moms 8 siblings could not be breastfed due to allergies. With all of this, he still said he would support me continuing to breastfeed. He would support the passing of yeast from me to my child and back again. He would support the excrutiating pain. BUT he would understand if I wanted to wean to formula.

The doctor told me to continue doing what I was doing, IF I really wanted to wean. And I learned that was the normal response. IF you REALLY want to wean. IF you REALLY want to introduce formula. I stupidly did not ask him what I did to wean my boobies. So I did what I always do to find an answer to a question I have. I consult GOOGLE. And what did I get? A website where you can order pro-breastfeeding t-shirts (notice, however, that they are not breastfeeding compatible. They do not have the entrance pockets hidden in them for easy feeding). After sifting through countless links, I FINALLY found one that gave advice on weaning. Finally an article that would tell me the best way to go about doing this. Then I actually read it, and this is what it said:

"withdrawing the breast can cause emotional trauma in the baby. Since nursing is not only a source of food for a baby, but a source of security and emotional comfort as well, taking it away can be very disturbing.: There is absolutely no way to explain to a baby why he suddenly can’t nurse anymore."

It took 11 paragraphs of explaining all the reasons to NOT wean, before they would explain how to. I decided to figure it out on my own. So now, two weeks later, as of today, Madison is completly on formula. She doesn't seem to be suffering any attachment issues, and she seems much happier. I still make sure that we cuddle while feeding, and that I talk/sing to her (which with my voice, could be considered abusive) while feeding. She is just as attached to me now as she was 2 weeks ago when we were exclusively breastfeeding. And as I sit her, stewing in my inadequacies of not being able to successfully breastfeed my child, and wondering what detriment I may be doing to her devlopment, I am reminded of something my hospital lactation consultant said to me shortly after our class. She had just finished explaning all the positives of breastfeeding, including that breastfed babies were shown to have slightly higher IQ levels than those that are not. My precocious 4 year old daughter and I were walking through the halls of the hospital talking about our days. The lactation consultant was walking behind us, and Delaney said something profound. The Lactaition consultant later told me that Delaney was one of the smartest, most mature 4 year olds she had ever met, and that she could see what a great connection we had. My response to her? "Not bad for a formula baby, huh!"