World Breast Feeding Week
This week it's been #worldbreastfeeding week and although it pains me to say it, it has left me feeling a little bit sad, when actually what I should be feeling is overwhelmingly pleased that this is a conversation people are having.
I know that not one single Mum in my NCT group found it easy, despite being told it was as easy as pie by our 70 plus year old breastfeeding counsellor. That no matter that it was the most natural thing in the world and that 'anyone could do it,' it was still something that the majority of us found bloody hard.
However, as we all sat in a stifling hot chintz styled living room surrounded by photos of her children and grandchildren, eating sugar-free confections which had been wheeled in on a hostess trolley, we were all committed to making this work and desperately wanted to believe the half truths she was tripping out.
The Reality
The reality was that we all gave it a go.
Some of us lasted days, others weeks, while some breastfed for months and at least one is still breastfeeding now... but easy it was not. In fact the Mama who is still feeding had the toughest of starts and I remember her husband telling me he was so angry with the breastfeeding session we'd had as it didn't remotely prepare them for the reality.
We supported each other as we fumbled about with a whole new wardrobe as well as a new baby, and discussed good places to feed in public, along with pain, bleeding, cracked nipples and tongue ties... But what if you don't have a group of 'Mum friends' to chat about this with?
Anything that puts all this on a public agenda has got to be a good thing, right? So why is it making me sad?
Me & Jude
It's making me feel sad because if I had my time again, I would approach feeding Jude so much differently, even though I know in my heart I should be proud of what we achieved.
Jude was born a month early and as well as being on antibiotics for potential infections, was also hypoglycaemic at birth. Although midwives tried to help him to latch, the fact is he wasn't latching on very well and he needed to feed pretty much immediately. We had to give him formula almost straight away, and proceed with this every 2-3 hours.
Since he was classed as an 'unwell baby' this was given to us by the hospital and in between times, I was encouraged to try and breastfeed... but being premature, he was so sleepy and as I hadn't really slept much in days either, we just couldn't master it. But I tried.
He then developed jaundice and had to remain under the blue lamps for several days. The more I took him out to try and master the breastfeeding, the longer his recovery took and I just wanted to get us both home.
Helping Hand
In the meantime, I tried hand expressing colostrum. This was no mean feat and as I was in the middle of being shown how to do it by the loveliest midwife, my husband walked in to find her cupping my boobs and tweaking my nipples as I pretended not to feel absolutely mortified as we chatted about absolute rubbish. Who says bringing a baby into the world ain't glamorous hey?
Once my milk had come in, and we had moved on to a side room (by this point I knew we weren't leaving any time soon) one of the healthcare assistants got hold of an expressing machine. This was the turning point. Not only was I able to start weaning Jude off the formula (which I felt the best thing for him given that he was so vulnerable, and I'd also developed the worst cold of my life and wanted him to have the antibodies) I was able to have something to focus on while he was sunbathing away his jaundice.
At Home
Once at home, I was convinced the actual breastfeeding would come more easily since I was feeling more relaxed. I was wrong. I did manage to get Jude to feed at some points in the day, usually after his bath in the evening, and he seemed to have a textbook latch but he wasn't happy about it.
After a couple of minutes, he'd arch his back and get stressed, which would see milk spraying everywhere. It stressed me out too so I'd end up resorting to giving him a bottle of expressed milk (which were beginning to stock up quite nicely.)
One night a few weeks in, after tremendous pain and a day of seeming hungry just 20mins after he'd been fed, I convinced myself it wasn't working for either of us. I didn't know these things were normal, since I had been told that a good breastfeeding experience should be painfree.
My health visitor had informed me about the breastfeeding cafe where I would get support, but between us we had already experienced so many interventions that I just couldn't face the thought of any more.
Expressing
So I gave up - and this is what makes me sad. I had experienced the beautiful bond that breast-feeding can facilitate and just gave up on it.
Because I was getting good results from expressing, that's what I chose to do instead. I took the 'easy route' - but looking back, let me say this now, there is nothing at all easy about expressing, and I still didn't escape damaged nipples.
I expressed for approx 20 minutes at least ten times a day. When I had done the night feeds, I then sat up and expressed for another 20 minutes. By the time I had done that, I was wide awake and found it difficult to sleep. It was exhausting.
It also meant I had to be in a pretty strict routine, as I didn't want to risk my milk drying up. It is so much easier for this to happen when you are solely expressing. I was confined to the house for a lot of the time as if breastfeeding in public is seen as something that still has a long way to go before it's seen as normal, whacking your baps out for the whirring Medela is certainly something that has a way to go before being accepted.
Still, my baby needed to be fed and as I got more confident, I did venture to expressing at other people's houses, in the car (not while driving I promise) and even in the airport. Chances are that if you were on the phone to me during those times, you would hear the Medela going in the background. It became part of our life but it wasn't entirely a welcome one.
Battle with the Boobs
It really felt like a battle at times: a battle each time my period came and my flow absolutely tanked, a battle with my feeling of shame that I was giving him a bottle (even though that bottle contained breast milk) and a battle with getting the balance right - I tried to do all of this while Jude napped, but there were times as he got older where he would be awake, and I remember feeling angry at him sometimes for crying while I was desperately trying to provide him with the 'liquid gold' that would be the answer to all of his childhood health problems.
Bloody rubbish. I should have picked him up and cuddled him instead.
After we came home from hospital, I fed Jude solely with breast milk until he was just over four months old. At four months, I introduced a bottle of formula and hated myself for it, but my flow was dropping no matter how many lactation cookies I ate or how many Kelly Mom articles I read. He was also becoming so much more alert that finding the time to express to meet his growing demands was almost impossible.
At six months, once we had introduced solids, I decided to call it a day. I still remember the last time I expressed. Just like with breastfeeding it felt tinged with sadness and also regret. For a few weeks afterwards I felt oddly emotional, and was convinced that I had failed him. Why is it that it is so easy to look at our failings and not what we should be proud of?
Support
So that's why this #worldbreastfeedingweek I have felt a little bit sad. I did breastfeed, but without the benefits. I did experience the embarrassment of getting my boobs out in public yet I still felt the shame for giving my baby a bottle. I am awkwardly perching on both sides of the fence I suppose.
But that there is a 'fence' at all is perhaps the saddest thing at all. We should all be supporting each other, and as much as it has made me feel a bit uneasy on a personal level this week, these conversations need to be had.
But how about we start with scrapping all the talk of how easy and natural it is, and instead start by discussing some of the problems breastfeeding women commonly encounter - and how to move past them?
I know there is usually some level of support after a baby is born, but wouldn't it make more sense to be more aware of all this beforehand? I know when I asked about this on my NCT course, I was almost shot down in flames by the counsellor. But anything that prepares women for the potential challenges of motherhood has got to be a good thing surely?
Rather than put people off trying, instead I really feel that it would help mothers to not feel like they are 'failing' at a time that is already dealing with enough.
You are Enough
If you are a breastfeeding Mama, then do stand up and be proud. It is definitely not being smug; you are doing an amazing thing and I know this quite possibly has been a tricky road. If you are not, then please give yourself a massive break, as I know you will have no doubt agonised over your decision to bottle feed... and ultimately a happy mother is what makes a happy baby. You KNOW this in your heart, so don't let anything tell you otherwise.
...also if you have ever expressed a bottle of milk from your boobs, then you'll know that once that stuff gets tipped over (probably by someone who hasn't got the aforementioned mammaries) there is absolutely EVERY point in crying over spilt milk, and it is perfectly legitimate to completely lose your shit.
Rxxx