How I Became a Breastfeeding Mother, Part 3

We fell into a pretty solid routine that involved lots of interrupted sleep so I could pump and feed Bettie every 3 hours or so.  Because she was so small, we were told to actually wake her up for feedings, so we did.

My hands were a mess from constantly washing bottles.  I'd pump while Adam gave Bettie a bottle.

I remember one night when we were both utterly exhausted.  It was around 5am.  I was hooked to the pump and Bettie needed a diaper.  Adam took her to the changing table, took her diaper off and she peed all over the place.  I (inappropriately, he would argue) started to laugh.  Adam got really upset and very petulantly said:  you did that on purpose!  That made me laugh even harder.  He finally saw the humor in telling a several weeks old baby that she was consciously holding on to pee so she could nail him as soon as the defenses were down.

Every time Bettie seemed interested, I'd put her to the breast.  Every time I was met by excruciating, toe curling pain.  I started to read message boards about EP, exclusively pumping and started feeling resigned to my fate.  I held her skin to skin quite a bit.  It calmed both of us down and she'd often fall asleep.

I started pumping more than Bettie was eating, so I began stockpiling milk in the freezer.  Our freezer isn't very big, and space became an issue.  We bought a very small deep freezer to store the stash.  I kept telling myself that the upside was that I wouldn't have to pump much once I returned to work.

 

On February 9th, 2009, two days after her due date, she started rooting around on my chest.  I put her to the breast.  It didn't hurt and I started to cry.  Adam ran over to me, looked a little dejected and asked:  It still hurts?  I said:  No...it's just the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced!

How I Became a Breastfeeding Mother, Part 2

I felt so good when at the week mark Bettie was getting nothing but breastmilk.  I fell into a routine with my pumping, but my supply was still terrible.  I bought Fenugreek and Blessed Thistle and took them until I smelled like maple syrup.  My supply went up a little, but not significantly.  Luckily, my little darling wasn't consuming a great deal because she was small, so even with my supply issues, we were doing just fine, and I was able to stay ahead of the game.

I started feeling more comfortable about pumping and even left the bedroom for the living room.  It's amazing when something like pumping starts to feel so routine you don't even think about it anymore.  I remember one day, sitting in my glider pumping, when the UPS guy came to the door.  Our front door doesn't have much of a curtain, so he got an eye full and I didn't care.  That was a very big, very liberating moment for me.  The poor UPS guy was probably scarred for life!

Adam started referring to me as the "holy cow".  He meant it totally reverently (I keep telling myself).  :)

I was so excited when Bettie came home on day 15 of her life.  I just knew that I'd get her to latch and be done with the pump.  I was so looking forward to snuggling her and having the most amazing breastfeeding and bonding experience.

That's not what happened.  The first time she latched, it was so excruciatingly painful I was in tears.  I met my first lactation consultant at Bettie's first pediatrician's visit.  I was so excited because I just knew that if we had some help, we'd be successful.  The lactation consultant wasn't very friendly and at no time did she touch me or Bettie.  She stood on the sidelines and gave me instructions, but the experience was confusing and wasn't working.  Bettie's latch was still miserable.  She suggested that I keep pumping and told me that because Bettie hadn't been put to the breast early, and had been given bottles since birth, it was unlikely that she'd ever nurse.  That devastated me.  I couldn't believe that something that was so normal and innate to humans could be so permanently damaged that badly by bottles.  She was writing me off.  Instead of accepting that, I looked for help elsewhere.

I work for a company called SAS.  SAS is very family friendly, breastfeeding friendly and has free onsite healthcare staffed with doctors, nurse practitioners and lactation consultants.  One of the lactation consultants/family nurse practitioners listed on our internal website was a woman named Nancy Register.    Reaching out to her changed everything about my breastfeeding relationship with Bettie.  She responded to my emails enthusiastically and seemed very friendly and encouraging.  I made an appointment to see her.

I had no idea what to expect after my first lactation consultant experience.  I steeled myself for more bad news.  Nancy was so different.  First, she was so incredibly knowledgeable.  It was obvious that she was passionate about breastfeeding and helping moms and babies.  She answered all of my questions and made me feel so comfortable.  She actually touched Bettie and helped show me how to position her.  She showed me how to encourage Bettie to open her mouth wide to get a good latch.  She gave me so much good advice, and there in her office, Bettie latched and it was less excruciating, but still not great.

Just when I started to feel discouraged, Nancy explained that as a preemie, Bettie wasn't mature enough to have some of the same instincts that term babies have.  It was early January.  My due date was still a month away (February 7, 2009).  She explained that many preemies just "get it" around their due dates, and told me not to give up if this was something I felt like I wanted to do.  She encouraged me to keep trying.  It was also at that point that we decided that we wanted Nancy to be Bettie's pediatrician.

How I Became a Breastfeeding Mother, Part 1

When I first got pregnant, I just KNEW I wasn't going to breastfeed.  It seemed so antiquated and barbaric. It made me flash back to images from National Geographic.  I felt like breastfeeding was something men pushed on women to keep them tied down.  I never thought it could be empowering.

I thought that science had to have something better, and that that something was formula.  I knew that my mother breastfed my sister and me for 2 or 3 months, and our neighbor breastfed her children, but I never really put much thought into it.

Something changed when I saw my Bettie in the NICU.  That change intensified when I smelled the formula she was being fed.  It smelled rancid.  It was disgusting.  I didn't want her to have to ingest such foul smelling stuff.

I had a very supportive post-partum nurse named Katoya who first helped me pump (since the good folks in the NICU wouldn't let me try putting Bettie to the breast).  I remember being in awe when milk started to flow.  The oxytocin kicked in and really boosted the old mothering instincts.  That first session netted me less than half an ounce, but it got mixed with her formula.  I vowed to do whatever I had to do to get her weaned off formula and taking breastmilk exclusively.

Katoya explained that I should be pumping any time Bettie was eating.  Since she was eating every 3 hours, I should be pumping every 3 hours, so that's what I did.  When I was released from the hospital, I went home and got my Medela Symphony pump set up in the bedroom because I was very shy and embarrassed about the way pumping looked.  The first time I pumped, I had the suction turned up way too high.  I realized this when my nipples turned black and started to bleed.  I learned that high suction wasn't the answer to supply problems.  I found kellymom.com and started to learn more about breastfeeding and pumping.

I was pumping every 3 hours, 24 hours a day for about 30 minutes at a time.  Yes, I was getting out of bed.  My supply wasn't great--in 30 minutes I was lucky to get 2 ounces, so I felt like it was very important to not miss a session.  It was exhausting, but totally worth it.  After 7 days, Bettie was getting nothing but breastmilk.