Why THIS mom didn't meet her breastfeeding goals.

I just read a post over on PhD in Parenting that has me kind of fuming. My thoughts are far too long to include as a comment, so I’m writing about it here instead.

I have resolved a lot of my feelings about this over the last four years, but I’ve had this come up a couple of times recently and Annie’s post was enlightening in a way that no other breastfeeding information ever has been. This list of reasons (that are identified as myths in Annie’s post) why women are encouraged to supplement with formula in hospital that reopened the frustrated wounds of my failed breastfeeding experience:

  • Your baby is hungry
  • You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I just gave him a bit of formula.
  • Your milk hasn’t come in yet. We’d better get him on a bottle.
  • Your baby has low blood sugar.
  • Your baby is crying a lot.
  • Colustrum has no nutritional value.
  • It will cure jaundice.
  • Maybe if he has a bit of formula, he’ll know what it feels like to have a full tummy and that will make him interested in nursing.
  • Your baby’s blood sugar is too low.
  • Since English isn’t your mother tongue, you should really just formula feed.

The three that are bolded? Those are all things that I was told or led to believe. Let me back up and tell you a bit more of my story interspersed with information I have learned since giving birth.

I have polycystic ovarian syndrom (PCOS). I was diagnosed 10 years ago after miscarrying my first child. (Wow…I would have a nearly ten year old this year if that hadn’t gone the way it did.) My GP who was caring for me until I got to 30 weeks should have been closely monitoring me for signs of gestational diabetes, including ordering the GD testing early - at 24 weeks or earlier instead of the usual 28/29.

I entered the diabetes clinic, was monitored for blood sugar regularity and size of the baby. At 37 weeks, when an ultrasound estimated that Brandon was about 9 pounds, I left the ultrasound clinic in tears, knowing that my doctor was going to recommend c-section. She scared me into it and that’s all I’ll say about that. Yes, my son was 10.5lbs at birth, but women CAN give birth naturally to large babies - it’s not the end of the world. I did not want a section. I was (and still am) terrified of surgery. Should we decide to have another, I will go for VBAC - no doubt in my mind.

Prior to giving birth or even being pregnant, I did a significant amount of reading about PCOS, the symptoms and effects on my body/life and how to manage it. Not once did I ever read anything about low milk supply. I have no idea how that significant and frustrating fact escaped me. It wasn’t until my pre-op, 5 days before my surgery that the nurse (also a lactation consultant) raised the red flag to me. 

I went home in tears. I was having a c-section, which is known to complicate breastfeeding AND I had a broken body that may not work right. Talk about stress and frustration and bad timing!

Fast forward to nearly a week later. I’m blissfully unpregnant, staying as still as possible so as not to disturb my incision and my Friday night nurse makes a helpful suggestion. Brandon really isn’t getting enough to eat from me. He’s wanting food more often than every three hours (no mention of the possibility of breastfeeding on demand). She offers to help me with lact-aid. Brilliant! I can supplement and still get the benefits of breastfeeding. 

We did this Friday and all day Saturday until the night nurse arrived in my room just after Matt left for the day for the regular feeding. She immediately started to tell me that I needed to decide what I was going to do when I got home because we couldn’t do lact-aid at home. Oh, did I mention that this was about 11:00pm? Yeah, her timing was awesome. Not to mention that she didn’t once tell us WHY we couldn’t do it at home.

She delivered this news while she also informed me that I was doing everything wrong, despite the fact that my son had latched like a champ for two days with no problem. She proceeded to put her hands in front of his face so I couldn’t see what I was doing to get him latched on. This resulted in repeated failure to get him situated. She even shoved the lact-aid tube so far into his mouth that she choked him once. He had his first screaming fit that night thanks to the nurse from hell. And I had my first breakdown. 

After she left the room and Brandon was settled, I called Matt in tears. He returned to the hospital and found said nurse to have a little talk with her. Then he stayed with me until 2:00am when we were to do the next feeding so that he could handle the lact-aid without needing the nurse from hell to help. This didn’t stop her from barging in my room and delivering pamphlets on how to bottle feed and the process to sterilize bottles. I refused to say a word or even look her in the eye, I was so angry. Her audacity still amazes me. If I had a baby in that hospital today and she walked into my room as my nurse, I would tell her to go switch with someone else. I can’t believe someone like that is allowed to work in a birth unit.

The day after, shift change brought a kinder more level-headed nurse who gently explained that lact-aid had to be used with the supervision of a certified lactation consultant. Ah. Okay. She helpfully provided some formula samples and we packed up and left the hospital and made a trip to the drug store to rent a breast pump and purchase bottles and formula, which I hadn’t bought before because I hadn’t planned to use them.

Five days post-partum (and the day after we were released), I attended the hospital’s breastfeeding clinic where the LC recommended that I obtain some Blessed Thistle, Fenugreek and ask my GP for a prescription of Domperidone. I stopped at the health food store on the way home for my herbs and called my doctor right away. Her nurse practitioner called me back to say that she wouldn’t give me the prescription despite the fact that all eight OB/GYNs at the hospital I where I gave birth recommend it for helping with low milk supply. I never went back to that GP again. 

I was able to obtain a prescription from my OB for domperidone, but not until a full two weeks post-partum. The herbal supplements had already helped, and I saw a difference with domperidone, but no one ever told me to just let the baby nurse as much as possible or feed on demand. I was told to feed him for 15 minutes on each side, then pump for 15 minutes. The process was exhausting and it really didn’t help my milk supply improve.

Little chronological side note: At my six week checkup, my OB saw something made her question me - it’s a symptom of my PCOS and I told her I had it. My GP had not informed her when she referred me to the OB. That cemented my decision to never go to that GP again. Lesson learned, though: Do not assume your doctor is doing their job well - they could be missing key steps that have a big impact. My OB needed that information while I was pregnant, not after.

I took domperidone for eight weeks. I didn’t risk asking for more than that because my OB was annoyed that she had to be the one to prescribe it. We rented the breast pump for eight weeks. But because we were buying more formula all the time, and the domperidone had run out, I returned it. I’d continue giving Brandon breast milk as long as it lasted and let nature guide me.

At just shy of three months, Brandon turned away from me for the last time, refusing my milk because there just wasn’t any there. The drip, drip of that faucet was quickly silenced and as much as I tried to tell myself I did everything I could, I knew there was probably more I could have done.

I wasn’t wrong, as I’ve learned in the years since. I may never have been able to build the milk supply needed to breastfeed my son exclusively, but I think the system failed me in a number of ways. It’s been a learning experience that will inform my decisions in future should we have another child, but it frustrates me to no end that I could have and should have had a better chance.

Maybe by sharing my experience other moms can learn from the mistakes I made in ignorance. But most of all, follow your gut. First time moms should have a voice that is every bit as loud and confident as second, third, etc. moms. If something is bothering you or you disagree, speak up. If your doctor or other caregiver isn’t giving you rational reasons for their recommendations, find another opinion and don’t put it off. Do your research, because you have to be your own biggest advocate in all areas of health - for you and for your child(ren).

"It's Just Another Manic Monday"

This morning started out pretty much the same as every other weekday morning. Matt got up first and started with his morning routine and then Brandon and I woke right about the same time. I got my shower while Matt was feeding/dressing Brandon. Usually, this all goes like clockwork, but not today.

As Matt was trying to take Brandon's onesie off, the child did some crazy lunge and ended up with a "pulled elbow" and we had to take a trip to the hospital. (We did not know what was wrong before we left, but it is apparently a very common injury in children his age.) I hadn't had a chance to dry my hair or anything else, so my look somewhat resembled that of a drowned rat. No, I did not care, but it does give you an idea of how quickly all this went down.

I dropped everything and started packing anything we might need, fully expecting to be waiting for hours and hoping we wouldn't! We had bottles, food, diapers, change of clothes, toys, more food, etc. I walked into the emergency room with three bags - we could have moved in for a couple of days, which is kind of what it feels like when you have to wait for any extended time in those places. Of course, I was imagining the worst-case scenarios: they'd call CAS reps and accuse us of abuse, he had something broken and how do you deal with that in a 15-month-old - you name it, I was probably thinking it or about to when they called us back for treatment.

Here's what actually happened:

We were in the waiting room for about an hour and a half - alone. There was not one single other person in there with us the entire time. I truly was wondering why it took so long, given that we were alone. Though I know that there is a logical reason for our wait; I'm sure they were busy overnight and were likely working on the last of a rush. We were told to go to another waiting area where we sat for less than 5 minutes before the doctor came around. She was a very nice woman who asked a few questions while looking at Brandon's arm for about 1 minute and then she stood up and said, "It's all fixed."

I wish I had a picture of our faces - we honestly didn't even know she'd done anything more than examine Brandon. He cried, because it is painful to have your elbow popped back into joint, but it didn't last long at all. It helped that he was busy with a bottle at the time. Less than 5 minutes after we went back to have Brandon treated, we were outta there. We left for the hospital at 6:30 and I dropped Matt off at work before 9:00. Not too shabby a turnaround for a trip to the emergency room. Now, Brandon's doing fine and back to his usual self and Matt and I are sort of exhausted from the stress of the morning! :)