Adventures in Breastfeeding

    Let me start out by saying that Panera Bread might not be my favorite place to dine, but it's a place that I can't come to with Timm or the kids.  Timm doesn't like it and I refuse to pay $8 for a pb&j for Iris that she probably won't even eat.  But I am having lunch here today because I am by myself.   I ordered a breadbowl of broccoli cheese soup and a hot chai tea, and let me tell you, every chunk of crusty bread dipped in broccoli flavored cheese was the best bite I'd had in months.  I haven't tried the chai yet, but provided I don't spill it on myself or my computer, I'm willing to bet it'll be pretty darn good too.  (ok, first sip of chai = absolutely heavenly.  Second sip, I'm pretty sure the solitude is the heavenly part, but the chai is not too bad.) 

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   Asher drank a bottle this morning.  It was phenomenal.  I had pumped the milk on Friday because he was teething so bad and using me as a chew toy and I was convinced I might have to wean him altogether.  But then, after he'd had a decent nap, his breastfeeding manners improved and the bottle just sat in the fridge unused.  This morning I warmed it up planning to mix the milk with some cereal for him for breakfast.  Holding Asher, I tried to test the temperature of the milk and he swiped the bottle from me.  Ok, I thought, We can give this a try.  I put the bottle to his lips and he opened wide.  At first, he chewed the nipple and took it out of his mouth.  He studied it for a moment and opened up for it again.  This time, after a little effort getting the rubber nipple comfortable in his mouth, he latched on and didn't let go till he finished every drop.  And even then, I had to force him to let go of the empty bottle to keep him from swallowing a ton of air.  Immediately, my mind raced with the freedom this bottlefeeding gig might offer me.  I don't want to get ahead of myself, though... this was his first bottle since he was merely weeks old.  And it got me thinking about how different my experiences feeding both of my children have been...

    Iris was a natural.  Moments after her delivery, she latched on like a champ.  I was awkward and unused to holding her, but she knew instinctively exactly what was supposed to happen.  The only difficulty in the hospital was when a lactation consultant came in to help and tried to force her crying face into my breast in an effort to show me how it's done.  That was unpleasant (to put it lightly).  Aside from that, we had a brilliant start.  I do remember experiencing some slight pain at one point.  She was a few months old, maybe, but the pain only lasted a week or so (if that).  At 3 weeks we started letting her use a bottle of expressed breast milk and I went back to work when she was 6 weeks old.  I pumped while I was at work, and she was happy to take a bottle while I was away.  I was able to feed her on demand (and even put up with those days of marathon nursing) and nurse her to sleep for every naptime and bedtime.  Weaning her from nursing her to sleep was so easy and uneventful I literally don't even remember it.  She finally got to a point where the only time she nursed was in the morning as soon as she woke up (but the only reason she did that was because I didn't feel like getting out of bed yet, so I would bring her in bed with me to nurse.  After some time of that, however, the nursing was no longer restful or comfortable for me because she would roll around and wrestle in bed with my nipple in her mouth, pretty much defeating my purpose for continuing to allow her to nurse).  Finally, I decided that the day she turned 18 months old, I was going to put a stop to the nursing all together.  A part of me thought that maybe she would be upset with that, but as it turned out she didn't even seem to notice.  She was 100% weaned and never looked back.

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    Before I go on, I want to put it out there that I am not political about my choice to breastfeed my children.  I did it because it was what I feel is right for me, my children, and my lifestyle.  I will breastfeed in public if I feel like it, and if I am certain that I won't be flashing people.  But I will also choose not to nurse in public if my companions (or other people in public) might be uncomfortable.  I am offended by those political breastfeeders who make it all about them with complete disregard for others around them.  Yes, you have the right to feed your child when (s)he's hungry, but you also have the right to do so discreetly, and sometimes that means sitting in your car for 15 minutes before going into the store.  You don't have to put a blanket over your baby's head to be discreet, and you don't have to tell anyone else to put a blanket over their head if they are uncomfortable.  Just dress accordingly, and respond graciously.  For me, just wearing a spaghetti strap tanktop underneath my t-shirt is perfect:  just pull one down and the other up, you are completely covered and completely accessible.  And, let the record show, I have never been negatively confronted when I have fed my children in public.  I doubt anyone has ever noticed.  Just because I am not political, does not mean I am not proud.  I am extremely proud of my choice to breastfeed my children.  And my experience with breastfeeding Asher has brought that pride to a deeper level.  Moreover, my experience feeding Asher has deepened my sympathies for people who have tried breastfeeding and given up.

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   When I was pregnant with Asher, I had no worries about becoming a family of four.  I was optimistic about bringing him home and adapting to being a mother of two.  I anticipated another natural, easy breastfeeding experience.  I was looking forward to bonding with my new baby, all blissed out on a postpartum hormone cocktail better than any drug created by man (which, to me, is further proof that we are created in the image of a loving and gracious God).  I thought that I was an experienced breastfeeder.  I knew what I was doing because I did it so well once before.  

   It is easy to forget that there are two people involved in the breastfeeding relationship.  One of those individuals is so tiny and helpless, it's easy to believe that they are just passively eating while the bigger, rational one is actively feeding.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  It's a whole new concept when there is a new person brought into the mix.  What I learned from feeding Iris, I had to unlearn and relearn  in order to feed Asher.  I had a false confidence in myself based upon the strong natural instincts Iris had as a baby.

   From the day he was born, Asher seemed opposed to the idea of breastfeeding.  In the hospital, he was slow to want to latch.  I had to work really hard to get him to take the breast.  I figured he was just really exhausted from the excitement of just being born and thought nothing of it.  It hurt when he finally would nurse, but I assumed that I was just not familiar with the sensation of feeding anymore.  When the lactation consultant came by, my family was visiting, so she said she would come back later.  When she came by again, we still had visitors and I told her not to worry about it, and sent her away.  I guess with second-time mom's the lactation consultants are less persistent.  oops.

   I was still experiencing a lot of pain a week later when the nurse came by for our home visit.  She observed him feeding, and said he appeared to be sucking and swallowing well, the latch was good.  I figured it would just take a while to get accustomed to breastfeeding this time around.  

   For the next three months I experienced excruciating pain every time I fed Asher.  At two weeks old, he took a bottle of expressed breast milk quite easily.  I thought maybe his latching on to a bottle was screwing up his latch at the breast, so we put a stop to the bottle feeding.  Breastfeeding did not improve, but he lost the willingness to take a bottle.  I wanted to feed him on demand, but every time he wanted to eat I was so aprehensive.  It hurt.  I was able to endure two unusually long labors without pain relief, but this was impossible.  Not even the techniques that got me through labor could get me through this.   Each feeding required every ounce of my attention and strength to suffer through.  I cried out in pain as he latched on.  I couldn't interact with Iris while I fed him.  As he ate, the pain would course through my breast, up my neck, down my arm, even into my leg.  It would radiate if anyone tried to touch me while he ate.  Forget feeding him out in public, and feeding him throughout the night was nearly impossible.  I was ashamed of myself for wanting to give up.  Breast is best, right?  Why did it seem so wrong?? 

   Around the time that I decided to try going to a La Leche League meeting, something happened.  Somehow the pain was decreasing.  I have no idea what changed, but finally I felt comfortable feeding him.  I started to experience the same positive vibes I had all along with Iris.  But almost as soon as I thought the pain was gone for good, it struck again a few weeks later.  Teething had begun, and with the discomfort in Asher's mouth, I guess his latch changed yet again.  But I was determined to make it work.  I knew how good it could be, I was convinced it could be like that again.  I swear, if I did not have such a good experience feeding Iris, there was no way I would have had the strength to stay the course in breastfeeding Asher.  Part of me felt like I made the wrong choice in abandoning the bottle so early on.  But how was I to know that it would be so hard, that I would be so miserable this far down the road? 

   It wasn't until after Christmas, when Asher was about 6 months old, when the pain finally subsided for good.  My breastfeeding relationship with Asher was hard won.  Interestingly, this was also the time when I introduced a little more structure to Asher's feeding and sleeping schedule.  Instead of feeding strictly on demand (and feeding him literally every 40 minutes, if not more), I made sure that at least 2 hours would pass between feedings.  And instead of letting him nurse for hours on end at nap/nighttime, I simply fed him till his sucking slowed and his eyes closed, then allowed him to doze off in his bed.   I'm not saying that doing this caused the pain to subside, but I'm not saying that the two are mutually exclusive, either.  

    So that's why, when Asher started biting me overnight Thursday and into Friday, I knew I wasn't going to put up with it.  After only 2 months nursing well, I wasn't going to suffer through pain anymore.  He was nearly 8 months old and starting to eat solids quite well.  I could pump as often as I was able, and he could either adapt to taking a bottle or learn to use a cup.  I am happy that I don't have to stop breastfeeding just yet, but I'm also over the moon with the fact that he actually willingly drank from a bottle so easily.

    So, yes, I am extremely proud of being able to breastfeed my children.  But it was a choice not made lightly and an effort not easily undertaken.  So, forgive me if I scoff at the billboards that boast, "We did it, so can you."  Something more appropriate (or at least, realistic) for women struggling to breastfeed might be, "It sucked for us, but eventually it got better.  If you feel like sticking with it, it might get better for you, too."