This post is for all the new moms and soon-to-be moms. Whether this is your first, second, or fifth baby. Do it.
Let me explain.
When I had our first daughter, I was outwardly very pro-formula. I had to be. At the time, I was still a practicing litigator. I knew it wasn’t possible to ask for pumping breaks during hearings or long meetings. Or, even if it was possible, it didn’t feel professional. (Yes, I know what you are thinking, and the lack of postpartum support for working women is a discussion for another day.) I also was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to nurse very well. My mom and sister had both struggled with nursing. On top of that, my mom passed away when I was 37 weeks pregnant, and, in addition to my law practice, I (was) volunteered to manage my parents’ finances and business. I had a lot going on, and I knew stressing about breastfeeding wasn’t going to help things.
When Andi was born, despite all my plans to not stress over nursing or pumping, I still got caught up in it. If you have ever nursed a child, you know that there is nothing quite like that feeling of being able to nourish her. Those little milk drunk smiles melt your heart. But, Andi’s latch wasn’t great. I was getting a lot of chaffing on body parts that shouldn’t be chaffed. She was constantly hungry … until we gave her formula. One night around two weeks, I had a meltdown about how hard it was. Andrew, being the voice of reason, kindly reminded me that my initial plan was not to be super-focused on nursing. Fed was best, and we had plenty of access to formula. He was right, and I increased Andi’s formula consumption. I tried to pump once or twice after that, and I got nothing. That was pretty deflating. Andi’s pediatrician recommended that I nurse twice a day as long as I could, and I made it until Andi was about three months old.
Fast forward to my pregnancy with Charlotte. I was no longer a practicing litigator. I had a lock on my office door and the ability to pump during the workday. Things generally were much better. So, I decided that I was really going to try. I had reasons why I *should* breastfeed. Breastfeeding would reduce my risk of type 2 diabetes, which had increased with my gestational diabetes diagnosis. I wouldn’t be dependent on formula, and, having lived through the formula shortage, this was a big deal to me. Breastfeeding would make this baby healthier and could maybe help me lose some of the weight I gained. But, mostly, I just didn’t want to feel like a failure. I would never say this out loud, but, as a Type A+ human, failing was not an option.
Planning to breastfeed and nurse, I did All.The.Things. I got my pump, bought the clothes, made sure my medical team knew this was my plan. When Charlotte was born, I had the lactation consultants in my room to check her latch. I even brought my pump with me so they could help me learn how to use it. (Obviously, the only reason I couldn’t get milk before was my own inability to correctly use the pump.) Charlotte was a champ! Her latch was so much better than Andi’s. No pain. Same heart-melting milk drunk smiles.
At the hospital, Charlotte had problems spitting up after formula bottles, and one nurse recommended that I breastfeed exclusively since Charlotte didn’t spit up after nursing. I tried, but that first night at home was horrible. She needed to feed every 30 – 45 minutes all night. We slept none. The next morning, our pediatrician gave us some tips and some special formula in case the spit up continued. After that, we began combo feeding successfully. Or so I thought.
Pretty soon, we were nursing about 1 hour per day, and Charlotte was drinking about 24 ounces of formula. This seemed like a 25/75 ratio to me because Andi drank 32 ounces of formula daily. I would later learn that this was not true.
When she was about one month old, Charlotte seemed to be having trouble nursing. Supply was probably the issue, and pumping regularly is supposed to increase supply. I tried pumping. Over the course of a day, I expressed almost 2 ounces of milk. (FYI – this is not much.) I read the packet that came with my pump and consulted several online resources. My flanges (essentially, the suction cups on a pump) had to be too big. I ordered a special ruler to measure my nipples (still the strangest thing I’ve ever ordered online) and then a smaller flange set. I just focused on nursing in the meantime.
A few weeks later, we traveled for Thanksgiving. On both travel days, I didn’t nurse. Charlotte seemed to have more trouble nursing, and I assumed my supply had gotten worse. I started pumping more regularly with my new flanges to no avail. I thought if I had a wearable pump, it would be easier to complete more pumping sessions. I ordered one. I tried changing my diet. I even drank beer twice because I was desperate. (I hate beer. If you love it, you do you. More chardonnay for me!) Everything I read said breastfeeding was about supply and demand. You have to nurse or pump, and then you will make enough.
At this point, I just got a few drops every time I pumped. I consulted some of my friends about my struggles, and one friend recommended a lactation consulting practice she had used. I made an appointment. I knew they would probably tell me the same thing: supply and demand. But, they had special pumps they could rent. And maybe they could show me how to use my pumps so I would actually get some milk.
Shannon, my lactation consultant, is one of the kindest humans you will ever meet. She discussed my history and examined my breasts. She told me in the kindest way possible that I had insufficient glandular tissue, or IGT. My breasts didn’t grow enough milk producing tissue during pregnancy. Even if I took special supplements and pumped 8 times per day, my milk-producing factory was small, and my output would also be small. I said I would try all the things she recommended.
Over the next 48 hours, I went through ALL of the emotions. I finally realized that I had been carrying mom guilt for two years over something my body couldn’t really do. I thought I was a failure because I couldn’t nurse Andi. I thought I was a failure because I let my supply drop with Charlotte. But, I was never a failure. I did not have the resources to feed my girls that way. I never knew that, and I carried that guilt for so long. I cried. A lot.
I felt like an idiot for spending so much money on nursing clothes, flanges, a wearable pump, and that stupid ruler.
I thought I couldn’t read the directions correctly on a breast pump. I graduated from Georgia Tech with Highest Honors with a Computer Science degree. I’ve been hooking up AV equipment since I was 2 years old. But, somehow, the complicated workings of a breast pump had stumped me?
I couldn’t pump because I couldn’t make milk.
Charlotte didn’t spit up when she nursed because I didn’t make enough milk for her to spit up.
Andi was not cluster feeding for two whole weeks. I couldn’t make enough milk to nourish her. She was hungry.
I tried to do all the things Shannon suggested that might get me to produce more than a few drops of breast milk. After two days, I decided to stop pumping. You can’t cuddle your baby when you pump. Anyone can give her a bottle full of food. But, she only has one mommy who can snuggle her. That was what mattered to me.
If you are struggling with breastfeeding or pumping, please go see a lactation consultant. Don’t spend two years feeling guilty or trying the wrong things. Get help from a professional and find the best way to nourish your baby’s body and soul. Focus on your little miracle and the blessings in your life. Fed is best, and you are doing a great job!