Is That All You Ever Talk About?

Becoming a mother has made me appreciate the fact that I am so stubborn. Again I am going to tell of my breastfeeding adventures. I know, I know, you're sick of hearing about my boobs but they must be talked about.

Never in my worst nightmares could I have predicted the emotional rollercoaster breastfeeding would be. If possible I have become even more obsessed with my boobs than ever before. As soon as Baby A was born suddenly they were no longer mine, they were public property. They were out there for everyone to see. My baby, my nurses, midwives and lactation consultant. My mother, my father, my sisters and brother, their husbands and his wife. And strangely I started to become numb to this. I was like “Yeah, I've got to feed this baby, (if she will actually eat this time!!!) so deal with it.” I also learned that my nipples were flat and that having large breasts actually made it more difficult to breastfeed. Then came the pumping. Peter came with me the first time I had to pump - when I learned how. It totally freaked him out and he never came back to that special room in the hospital with me again. I guess I can understand seeing the breasts of the woman you love being hooked up to a human milking machine would be a little weird. Not that it wasn't weird for me. I was the one being milked. I do remember being fascinated, watching it come out. It was surreal.

As I mentioned previously soon after I began pumping my competitive nature kicked in. I stole peeks through the curtains when other mom's were depositing their pumped milk into the containers. Jealous of the one's who had pumped what appeared to be enough to feed a small country, and sympathetic towards the mom's who had only managed a few drops. I judged myself, thinking that my milk wasn't coming in fast enough and that there wasn't enough. I was sad when we began feeding her my milk in a bottle, thinking we could never go back. I kept trying and with my midwives help, succeeded.

My next issue was dealing with the switch from bottle to breast. I went from knowing exactly how much milk my baby was getting to having no idea. I was thrilled to finally be breastfeeding but nervous about it as well. My mother didn't help constantly asking “How much do you think she has had?” or “Do you think she's had enough.” She meant well but it only made me more paranoid when I was already insecure in the first place. Bring on the next challenge, Mastitis. I really didn't know much about Mastitis. I think I may have read about it while I was pregnant but hadn't really paid attention. That was stupid of me. So when I began to shiver uncontrollably in the middle of the night I wondered what the heck was going on. The next day when I had three layers of clothes on, was aching from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and had a terrible headache my midwives confirmed it was Mastitis. At first we treated it by trying to really keep the breast drained. It went away and then came back again a couple of days later. We then decided to treat it with antibiotics. I haven't had it since.

Miss A has been sleeping through the night since she was about two months old. (Kill me quickly) And just so you aren't too jealous I will tell you it has it's draw backs. Well, one anyway. Sleeping through the night in combination with me working 16 hours a week is not great for the milk supply. I pumped during my break at work but I wasn't expressing much more than two ounces. I started getting very uptight, pumping during every nap, after she went to bed. I became convinced I was drying up. What I wouldn't give for that engorged feeling again or for my shirt to be wet from leaking. I started taking Fenugreek and expected to be able to feel the increase in my milk. What really worked was pumping about an hour before Baby A wakes up in the morning. That is the one time I have loads of milk since it's been storing up all night. I was worried there wouldn't be enough for her when she woke up but soon found there seemed to be plenty and she was satisfied. Since I began doing this I don't have any struggles keeping up with her milk demands. So for now we seem to have all our issues worked out. I find it so strange that after five months of this I can still be having problems, worries and insecurities. I guess that's just the way it will go until I wean her.

The other morning Peter and I were both in bed and I had commenced my morning pump ritual. He looked over at me and shook his head. I asked him why. He told me he was just thinking about how a year ago he never imagined this scenario. In bed with me as I expressed milk. We both chuckled. It is pretty funny when you think about it. Even after everything I've been through I wouldn't change a thing. It has been SO worth all the ups and downs to finally get it right.

(Reminding my three readers (oh the self depricating humor) again that I am a “Share the Love” blog awards nominee. You can vote for my blog here under the Most Meetable In Real Life category.)