When I got pregnant, there was no question as to whether my husband and I were going to use formula or breastmilk. In our eyes (well, my eyes) there could only be one option that was truly perfect for our son and that was breastmilk. The health benefits, the bonding, the money saving: there were too many pros to say no. However, having never seen it done, except by an occassional nursing mom out in public, I had NO IDEA what was in store. No one in my family was breastfed, including me. So, I went to classes, and I read tons of books. And thanks to the incredible lactation department at my hospital, within an hour of my son being born, he was on my breast nursing away. The beauty of it all.
And......the pain.
That kid could suck chrome off a bumper. He was on me for an hour that first time. I got my first blister shortly thereafter and could only nurse on one side for days until I healed. On top of that, he was a shallow latcher, so I had to constantly pop him off and on until he actually had a good deep latch. But that wasn't too often, so I'd give up and just deal with the pain: the toe-curling, sobbing kind of pain that can only be described as a fist full of pins being jammed into my nipples then twisted.
Then,
thrush set in. Could this get any worse? I was only six weeks into my new, full-time job, and I was ready to throw in the towel and get started stocking up on cases of Enfamil. I was in tears at my local
lacation support group. I was at my wits-end, feeling like a failure because I couldn't do what was suppose to be the most basic function of a mother to a newborn.
"Take a break." My lactation specialist told me to take a week off. So I did. I pumped for one week. We sized me for a
nipple shield shortly after, and 16 months later, I have never looked back. My son has been successfully solely breastfed for the first six months of his life. We continued for the
AAP-recommended 12 months, and I have been gunning for the
WHO recommendation for 24.
Just when things were going so smoothly, we discovered that my son is allergic to dairy and eggs. Since he's basically eating what I'm eating via the breastmilk, I've had to eliminate all things dairy and egg. Finding out the hard way, I have become lactose intolerant, but we do what we have to do for our children. I'd do anything for this boy, including becoming lactose intolerant.
As with everything in life with a child, what we want and expect to happen doesn't always happen. The game changes, and we have to whip out our playbooks and find a new play.
At 15 and a half months, I introduced soy milk to my son. We've been doing rice and coconut milk since he turned one. I was nervous about soy since statistically, if there is a milk allergy present, it could manifest into a soy allergy also. I wanted to be sure we always had soy as an option. Well, under the guidence of our allergist, we moved forward with the soymilk. Wow. You would have thought I gave him his first orange soda. Loved. It.
Loved it so much, he didn't ask to nurse on me all day for three days. Before this, he was still nursing five to six times a day. He had cut down to his morning and night feeds, and I was fine with it. I was being guided by him, and I actually enjoyed my new found freedom.
Well, the soymilk introduction coincided with my husband being home for the week. Come the following Monday, daddy went back to work, and my son regressed. He wanted to go back to the old nursing schedule, but it was too late. My milk supply had already severly diminished. I tried for a couple weeks, but I just couldn't get my supply back up and the pain came back. On top of that, my hormones started to go out of whack because of slowing down the nursing then picking it back up again. Something that was so beautiful, natural, and bonding for me had become perverse in someway. It felt wrong; almost incestuous. I couldn't get my son off me fast enough after feeds. I had been suffering from mild
PPD since his birth. Now everything was exacerbated and this festering anger started to bubble over. I was taking things out on my husband and my son. No one could do anything right. I felt out of control.
Now, I'm at a crossroads. I have come to a decision to wean my son six months shy of my intended goal in order to maintain my own sanity and well-being, therefore my son and husband's well-beings. I have to look at myself for a while and start concentrating on getting me over this PPD so I can be a better mom and wife. I want to do this drug-free, but if that's not possible, at least I have the option. I haven't taken anything stronger than an Extra-Strength Tylenol for 26 months, and do not want to expose my son to anything unnecessary, especially anti-depressants.
I was able to successfully wean the daytime feeds, and as of last week, we were down to two again (morning and night). This week, we dropped the bedtime feed. For three days, he cried hysterically for ten minutes before giving up and falling asleep. I wasn't expecting the guilt. Boy, it overwhelmed me. I've let my son cry-it-out to sleep before with no issues, but knowing he was crying because I couldn't give him that one comfort he always looked forward to before bed is killing me. Rejection. The guilt that I'm rejecting him is horrendous.
But, he's a resilient little man, like most children are. The past two nights he has gone right down to sleep, no protests, no cries. I only hope the last feed can be weaned without too much protest. I have four more weeks to tackle that.
Breastfeeding is one of the most difficult and beautiful things I've ever done. It is not instinctual, and I truly believe it can only succeed with a wonderful and nurturing support system. I thank God for the support that was given to me from my local lactation support center and fellow moms and that is continually being given.
All I want is to do what is best for my son. I think having a mentally healthy mom is priority right now. Of course I need to mourn the six months I won't have nursing him, but I must celebrate the hurdles I've jumped to get to this 18-month point. I'm proud of what I've accomplished. To think, I just wanted to get through the first 12 weeks....here I am 78 weeks later.
I will always believe breastmilk is best for all babies. Before I get people jumping all over me, I do understand there are circumstances when that is impossble. I am eternally grateful that the Lord gave me the ability physically do what I needed to do for my son, and that my husband was so giving in allowing me to be home with him to be an all-day milk-
bubbler. The licsence plate on my car says, "Eat at Mom's. Human milk for human babies." If you can do it, do it. It's one of the most important decisions to make for your child.
Yankee Doodle Dandy,
–TYG
