My Breastfeeding Story- One Year of Nursing

Growing up, my mother would tell me horror stories of how much she didn't like breastfeeding. I heard how much it hurts, how we would bite her, and how painful engorgement is. I was scared senseless. However, when I got pregnant, I read so many stories about how magical breastmilk is for babies so I knew I at least wanted to try.

When Logan was born, the nurses immediately placed him on my chest for skin to skin and then we attempted breastfeeding. All sense of dignity flew out the window and I was so grateful for my nurse's help. She held Logan's head and positioned my breast. His suck was so weak and he barely latched on. At that moment, all I felt was anxiety. I didn't know what to do and I was so scared of failure. Logan kept crying and rooting but was attached to me the whole time we were at the hospital so I thought I was doing alright.

When we got home, I set alarms to nurse him every 3 hours around the clock. I cried every time I breastfed because it was freaking impossible to latch him on. My husband or mom had to help me. I was hunched over and tense. My neck and shoulders were in pain. My fingers hurt like hell kneading my breast to try to get milk to flow.

A couple of days later, I brought Logan to his first pediatrician appointment and they weighed him. They pricked his heel to test his jaundice levels and then I went home. Shortly after getting home, I received a phone call telling me that Logan lost more than ten percent of his birth weight and has high levels of jaundice so they want to admit him to the children's hospital. I cried and cried because I felt like a failure. My baby was starving and I didn't even know! At the hospital, they told me to feed, supplement, and pump every 3 hours. I sat shirtless on the chair with the pump attached to my body, with no milk coming out, crying tears of regret, and stuffing my mouth with food and water to eat enough to produce milk. It was traumatizing.

The nurses brought us a bottle of formula and when my mom fed Logan I couldn't even look. I saw him guzzling the bottle down and my heart broke in half. I felt failure every time I pumped and nothing came out. I hated my body for taking so long for my milk to come in. I hated myself for every bottle of formula my baby drank. I know fed is best and that formula is fine  but at the time, I felt like I was giving my baby poison. My postpartum emotions were horribly manipulating. I rejoiced the first time I pumped out a drop of colostrum or was it milk. I don't even know what it was. We fed Logan those few drops using a syringe. I started to feel hope. Logan gained enough weight the next two days to be discharged thanks to our combo feeding and pumping routine.

My mom and husband were angels and prepared and washed my pump parts for me every 3 hours. This is what our days looked like. I would sit on the couch with my breastfeeding pillow and someone would hand me the baby. They would help latch him on and then I would nurse him on both sides, while jiggling his arms and legs to keep him awake. After nursing, my husband would hand me the pump parts and I would apply lanolin and pump for 15 minutes. While I was pumping, my husband would then bottle feed the baby. And then he'd wash the pump parts and store the milk.  Repeat every 3 hours. We were all zombies but we got through it somehow. I went to lactation specialists every week until they told me I can stop supplementing. I felt joy for the first time that day because I was starting to see that Logan was preferring the bottle over me.

Unfortunately pumping every three hours gave me serious oversupply. Logan hated nursing when my breast was engorged and he was drowning every time I let down. He was so fussy at the breast that every time I nursed I wanted to cry. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Why does breastfeeding come so damn naturally for other women but is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life? When he turned 3 months old and was more aware of his surroundings, he refused to nurse unless it was in  a dark room before naps. This meant I couldn't take him out in public because he just wouldn't nurse! I hated how I was tied to my house just to breastfeed. I hated the pressure of keeping my baby alive solely using breastmilk. The problem was when we stopped supplementing, Logan refused to drink from a bottle. He wouldn't drink milk even when my husband fed him. I felt like I owed it to my son to keep nursing him despite my own feelings. Because truth be told, despite all of the stress.. whenever we nursed I felt a  deep connection.

I can't talk about my breastfeeding story without talking about food allergies and my diet struggles. At 2-3 months old, I noticed that Logan had mucousy green stools and eczema on his face which pointed to a dairy/soy allergy. Eliminating dairy and soy was such a huge struggle and I had a hard time eating out because everything has soy! At his 6 month appt there was blood in his stool because of something I ate. I cried my heart out and felt like a shitty mom. My life revolved around checking his dirty diapers for any signs of blood, weighing Logan on the special baby scale I bought to see if he is gaining weight, and cautiously beginning our journey with solids. With each food he reacted to, I cut out from my own diet as well. It was a huge commitment and a sacrifice that I would have only made for my baby. I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Logan is no longer allergic to dairy and soy! It's amazing.

Now that I'm breastfeeding an 11 month old, there are new struggles. He loves nursing so much for comfort that he pulls my shirt down and gets mad unless I nurse him. He fell in love with nursing because of cosleeping and now it's nonstop, on demand nursing. At home, church, while we're out shopping.. he'll pull my shirt down and it's pretty embarrassing! People  ask me when I'm going to stop but my honest answer is I don't know. I worked damn hard to be able to breastfeed my baby and I'm not going to just throw our breastfeeding relationship away because he's no longer an infant. I persevered through mastitis, plugged ducts, nursing strikes, teething, and biting. And given the chance, I'd do it all over again.

I know this all sounds pretty negative but I didn't want to sugarcoat my experience. To touch on the positives of breastfeeding- it's the best feeling in the world to look at your kid's growth and say, "I did that. My amazing body was able to provide for my baby and look how big he is now!" I am so proud of myself for persevering through all of the hard times. I love how nursing can instantly calm Logan down when he's scared, stressed, or hurt. I love the way he holds my hand while he nurses. I love gazing down at his sweet face while he's nursing and he's fallen asleep. I love that my body was able to provide antibodies for Logan when he got his first cold. I just love being his mom. I'll write another post on weaning when I get there. Right now I'm thinking of nursing until 18 months or 2 years but who knows! Logan may wean earlier or I might reach my limit sooner than I think. Or maybe I'll be nursing a 4 year old! (God I hope not). I'm actually pretty terrified of the painful weaning process- both emotionally and physically.

What will I tell my children about breastfeeding? It's hard at first but it gets better. That's my truth.