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.
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.
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