Hello Breastfeeding! I Gave You Three Months.

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I was adamant that I was going to breastfeed my son exclusively for the first 365 days of his life. I read every book you could imagine…Breastfeeding Made Simple: Seven Natural Laws for Nursing Mothers, The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, The Breastfeeding Book: Everything You Need to Know About Nursing Your Child from Birth Through Weaning and the list goes on. And, let’s not discuss the amount of online video clips I watched. Every time my husband walked passed me on the computer there was a titty on the screen.

Copyright MOD. Do not download without permissionIn my mind, there were NO other options. Breast milk is what my baby needed, so breast milk was what my baby was going to get. When people offered me other suggestions, I would tune them out. Deep down I knew they were trying to help but I took their comments as “being negative” or “doubting my abilities”.

Lucky for me, my son latched on immediately after delivery. I had a great lactation specialist who was very supportive, and even when I returned home, I could send her an email or give her a call on the “breastfeeding hotline” (yes, there’s a hotline).

747B0C13_1For the first couple of days my body was still reeling from childbirth. Though S Dot was feeding, my whole state of mind was numb (which are details for my next post). I couldn’t honestly tell you if I was using the “proper” breastfeeding techniques. I just knew my son was eating and that was all that mattered to me– until two weeks later!  Jesus! All I can remember is that things got real raw, real painful, REAL FREAKING FAST! I look at that period as my first bout of  “foolish selflessness”. See, as long as my son was feeding and seemed comfortable, I wouldn’t move him—no matter how badly my nipples blistered or how uncomfortable I felt. I know…not my smartest moment. But in my defense, my hormones were monstrous…I couldn’t think straight.

After a few tips from the lactation specialist and A LOT of Lanolin ointment, I am happy to say that I started to feel much better.

When it comes to breastfeeding, you can meet 10 women and they will give you 10 different perspectives. For me, I believe it starts with a good support group. It helps when you are surrounded by people with experience.  Personally, my mother breastfeed me for 2 weeks, than she stopped because “it felt creepy” (her words not mine). My aunt wanted to breastfeed but her children didn’t take to the process. I had girlfriends but most did not have children. My husband was supportive, but he wasn’t as hell bent on S Dot being breastfeed as I was. Between you and me, I think his mentality was, “If he doesn’t want your breast, I’ll take them!”

I had to push myself and figured out a lot on my own.

After three weeks, my husband would bottle feed S Dot once at night to give me a opportunity to sleep. After 6 weeks, we would give S Dot one bottle of breast milk in the afternoon and one during those early morning “God What Time Is It?” feedings! This offered me a much needed break; it provided my husband and son bonding time and it introduced Shawn to the bottle,which was helpful when he was being watched by family members. Everything seemed to be working. I was even pumping and storing my milk in the freezer.  I felt like a well oiled milking machine.

And just when I thought I had the hang of things, I hit a wall…HARD!
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S Dot was around 11 weeks old and he was eating every 2- 2 ½ hours (non-stop). And, it was beginning to take a toll on me. Every time I would breastfeed, the sensation felt like Freddy Kruger dragging his long metal nails along the width of a chalkboard. When he would suckle, I’d have to resist the urge to throw his baby body across the room. I know I sound horrible but that’s what you see when you read my diary.

There were some feedings where I was counting down the seconds to get that boy off my chest.  After 20 minutes, I would look down at him and he would actually be sleep, using me like some common pacifier. I began dreading breastfeeding. I felt SOOOOO uncomfortable. My poor husband would try to carry a conversation with me while I was nursing  and I would imagine lasers shooting from my eyes and his head rolling across the bedroom floor. When I say I hit the wall, I mean I went through those bricks head first.

Needless to say, when I came to the end of three months, I couldn’t take it anymore. Based on my earlier experience, I could now see that I was bordering again on the edge of foolish selflessness. Though I was uncomfortable, I refused to change my “position”. I felt like I failed and the guilt was heavy.  Then, it hit me, I love my son and I want to enjoy the last moments of my maternity leave relishing in his light, not imaging hurling him across the room followed by his father’s laser seared head.  So, I stopped breastfeeding at 3 months and opted to pump my milk exclusively.
My diary entry is this, “If mommy isn’t comfortable, no one is comfortable”.

One Comment

  1. LOL @ Freddy and lasers.

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