In the past few weeks I’ve read some really thought-provoking blogs about breastfeeding. Dooce started a bit of a firestorm in a post regarding how she was going to have to wean her daughter earlier than she’d like. The discussion moved to Chez Miscarriage when some lunatic attempted to badger the author to horse-whip Dooce for the early weening.
In the course of reading the fallout I happened upon a fabulous entry by Selkie that asks a question I honestly wish more lactation consultants/volunteers/nurses would ask would-be nursing moms: “What's happening with these unhappy mothers who feel like they were blasted by the Wicked Witch of the Breast?”
Well, I’m here to answer. I can’t answer for everyone who’s had a bad breastfeeding experience; I can only answer for myself.
Some background: I had every intention of breastfeeding Clara Jane. B. and I took the classes and read the books. I practiced holds. I had visions during my pregnancy of gazing at my newborn daughter, suckling in the middle of the night. Just the two of us, bonding and nourished. I couldn’t wait. Nothing could stop me, no matter how difficult it was. No matter how bloody my nipples became. I was going to be – dum dum da dum – Attachment Parenting Goddess!
I labored for over 34 hours before undergoing an emergency C-section. Clara Jane had swallowed meconium during the latter stages of labor, so she was whisked away to NICU as soon as she was born. Thank God, she was fine, but it was six hours before I got to see her. So much for my plans to feed her as soon as she was born.
By the time I first laid hands on my daughter I had been awake for well over 40 hours and had undergone the most physically and emotionally painful event of my life.
For the record, here’s how La Leche League has to say about post-cesarean nursing:
You may find that your body is tender at the site of the incision and that you cannot move and change positions as easily as usual.
Tender?
Tender?!?!
I had a five inch incision that cut through skin, my abdominal muscles and a major organ. Five months after Clara Jane’s birth, my body is tender. In the days that followed her birth, it was the most searing, white-hot pain I’ve ever experienced.
This kind of sugar-coating runs rampant in caring for pregnant women and new mothers. “You’ll feel a little pressure.” It’s a human head pressing on a cervix – that’s more than a little pressure. “Your breasts might feel a little over-full if you’re engorged. Engorged like a water balloon filled to bursting. “You might experience the baby blues…” which could very well turn into a depression that leaves Mom unable to move from her chair, unable to unfix her eyes from the wall, and unable to respond to her child’s cries.
To anyone providing care to new moms or pregnant women, please give it to us straight. Be honest with us. We’re big girls; we can take it. Don’t just tell us how wonderful pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding and parenting can be. Also give us fair warning of what complications we might expect. The shock at just how bad it could be destroyed what morale I had left.
Also, recognize that not every woman is going to be able to breastfeed. Just like not every woman is able to get pregnant, not every woman is going to be able to perform this normal, natural function. In the past, this inability was a death sentence for the child. At least today we have an alternative.
I was unable to breastfeed. I feel at fault for a great deal of this. I feel like I didn’t try hard enough, even though I did everything I could.
The breastfeeding support in the hospital was abhorrent. I delivered in a hospital that has one of the best obstetric units in the region. Even so, I was stunned at the conflicting, inconsistent care I received.
The nurse who finally brought me my daughter six hours after her birth handed her to me and left the room. As she was walking out I told her that I needed help breastfeeding. She kept walking. She repeated this performance four hours later when she brought my daughter for her second feeding. When she asked if Clara Jane had nursed, I told her that I had no idea, since I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
“Well, I’ll have to give her a bottle then.”
Over 40 hours with no sleep. Pumped full of painkillers. Passing blood clots the size of a softball. And now I have to fight a nurse who isn’t willing to provide any breastfeedng support at all?
Pardon me, but how in the fuck is anyone supposed to be able to do that? Is this a test to see just how willing and able a new mom is to fight for her child?
I fought. Clara Jane didn’t get the bottle. Then I cried for a few hours.
That nurse was one extreme. The other extreme were the nurses who held my child and my breast. They did all the work. I just lay there and lactated. They gave me no instruction on how to hold her, how to help her latch on. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” I got the feeling that if they could have acted as wet nurses, they would have.
I had 20 other nurses in the course of my stay that fell somewhere along the continuum. Some were excellent. Some were terrible.
This hospital delivers hundreds of babies a month. They have two lactation consultants on staff. These consultants are stretched so thinly that patients have to set up appointments with them, and then they’re lucky if they can get 10 minutes of instruction.
In the end, I gave up. I spent $65 a month on a Medela breast pump rental, and for over four months I spent 1-3 hours a day attached to this machine, gulping fenugreek tea by the quart, devoting my life to making breastmilk for my child. The irony of this? My husband works for a company that makes formula. Formula, for us, is free. And yet, that doesn’t stop the dirty looks I would get in public when I’d whip out a bottle for Clara Jane. So many times I wanted to scream, “It’s breast milk! I’m not poisoning my child, even though you think I am!”
Breastfeeding fans kept egging me to keep trying.
Formula fans kept telling me to give it up.
Granted, I rarely do what anyone tells me to do, but it gets exhausting, listening to everyone tell me what I “should” do. It really does.
The worst part of this was the unsolicited advice. Yes, I tried nipple shields. Yes, I contacted La Leche. Yes, I took the classes. Yes, I tried the football hold. And yes, I get defensive when you run through the list of the basic breastfeeding advice. I get defensive when you assume that I haven’t done everything in my power to give my child the best, or that I haven’t done my homework on the matter.
No matter how hard I try, and no matter how healthy my baby is, it’s difficult to not feel like a failure. Talking to women who get that misty, far-off look in their eyes while glowing about the joy they get from looking down at a milky smile attached to her nipple is painful. Like telling someone with paralyzed legs how wonderful it is to run.
Our sense of womanhood is linked to our abilities to reproduce and feed our children. When those seemingly basic functions fail us, it can leave us feeling wounded and bitter, like we’ve been cheated.
I know so many women who wanted to breastfeed and weren’t able to do so. Instead of admitting that they tried and failed, they say that they chose to not breastfeed. It’s only later, when they feel safe, that they can admit that they tried and failed. The level of guilt and embarrassment is sickening. I never knew this existed until I found myself in the same position.
So, that’s why I felt like I was blasted by the Wicked Witch of the Breast. I think this long-winded rant boils down to a few very basic points:
1. Show compassion. A new mom is in the most vulnerable position of her life, at best. Be conscious of her fear. Watch your words, because they are so powerful.
2. Be realistic. This isn’t the time for rainbows and fluffy clouds. Be honest with the new mom. Brutally honest, if need be.
3. Never assume. Just because a mom isn’t breastfeeding doesn’t mean that she didn’t want to with all her heart. Don’t assume that she doesn’t know the benefits. Don’t assume that she hasn’t done everything in her power.
4. Realize this isn’t a black and white issue. It’s not just breastfeeding vs. formula. There can be shades of gray between. I was a shade of gray, with my bastardized way of delivery breastmilk to my daughter, and because of this there was no support. As far as I can tell, I’m the only mom in the history of the world to feed my child the way I did.
Selkie, you’ve done something I’ve never seen done by a breastfeeding professional: you asked this question. For that, I thank you. That’s a start. If more breastfeeding and nursing professionals (who are stretched woefully thin because of the disaster that is our healthcare system, but that’s another rant) would show the interest and concern that you’ve shown, many of this problems would be solved.
Bravo. Well said.
Posted by: Ms. Grits at July 19, 2004 09:04 PMMy daughter was born over 20 years ago. I had all good intentions of breastfeeding her and tried my darnedest. However, I was not producing enough milk to keep an ant alive, much less a baby. Talk about feeling like a failure as a mother! However, she survived quite well on formula and is now a beautiful young woman.
Posted by: CSG at July 20, 2004 09:11 AMI too have been reading all of the titty talk. I am very lucky that I had two lactation consultants that went above and beyond to help me breastfeed Zachary after my c-section delivery. It was one of the hardest and wonderful experiences of my life. But that was my experience. I have had friends that have had easier times, harder times, and yes, poppy, a friend, who, like you, pumped and fed her baby a breast milk bottle. So no matter what, I wish new moms would remember that out there somewhere is another new mom that is just as scared and happy and tired as she is. I know it helped me to think of my mommy look alike out there.
Posted by: Michelle at July 20, 2004 09:17 AMRobin, thanks for your response to my entry. My hat is off to you and to any mom who does what you did (and you are far from alone -- check out http://www.pumpingmoms.org). I'll forward the link for your post to some of my fellow breastfeeding supporters -- these are issues we need to think about with every mom we try to help.
Posted by: Jamie at July 20, 2004 10:04 AMRobin! Why have we never talked about this before? Well, wait, I know. It's because we're too busy talking about everything else. But, still, I had the same problems with breastfeeding.
I wanted to do it, everyone told me to do it, but no one could tell me how. And I was the biggest pest around. The hosptial lactation people got tired of it and sent me to La Leche. The La Leche league rep got tired of the questions and sent me to Parents as Teachers. And finally, the Parents as Teachers rep admitted she wasn't successful breastfeeding 2 of her 3 children and gave me permission to think I was an okay mom even if Maddie had formula. She's thrived ever since. The Medela breast pump is gathering dust in the closet and we couldn't be happier to have the pressure off.
Posted by: Angie G at July 20, 2004 10:51 AMWow. Thanks for writing this. I have a 10 month old, and every word of this entry rang true for me - well, except my DH doesn't work for a company that makes formula. Otherwise, you were tellin' my story, sister! We're out here.
Posted by: Scarlett at July 20, 2004 02:57 PMYou know my story, Robin. But I'm not going to spout like your analogy of telling a parapelegic how great it is to run. But here's my two cents, 1) If you can get your breastmilk to your child any way at all, you are doing wonderful things for your child by providing those nutrients and immunity-building elements. 2) If you can't get your breastmilk to your child any way at all or just plain don't want to, you can do wonderful things for your child by not being stressed out and unhappy about not breastfeeding and simply love them and feed them the best way you can. I would encourage everyone to try to breastfeed, but if you can't or don't want to, that's your perogative. Tell the boob nazis to go f*&k themselves.
Posted by: Aubrey at July 20, 2004 05:50 PMI could've written this entry a few years ago. These days, when I hear someone ranting about how women who formula feed their kids just didn't try hard enough or some such comment, I simply I smile, look at my formula-fed son, and think "Oh well, he'll only be a regular evil genius, instead of a SUPER evil genius."
Posted by: Whitney at July 20, 2004 06:48 PMnever breastfed, never intended to. but i can bloody well promise you i was pressured 6 ways from sunday to do it.
my babies are fine. and the dumbasses who blurted out their stories, "expert" medical advice and lame ass opinions lived even though i told them it was none of their GD business what i did with my breasts or my children.
this thread should be published somewhere, somehow, robin. it really should.
Posted by: Kicking Bear at July 20, 2004 06:56 PMI never intended to breastfeed, period. call me an evil mom if you wish. I have a bottle-fed daughter who is four years old now, and there was no way in hell that I was not only going to carry the baby but then be attached to it for nearly a year, or however long it would take. Feeding is what dads are for, while poor old mom is trying to recover from an emergency c-section. Breast may be best, but for my sanity, it was not. And you should be applauded for pumping. Maybe it's a regional thing. I was never looked down on for bottle-feeding. Everyone I knew had bottle-fed their kids. In fact, it was seen as somewhat "weird" if a person chose to breastfeed. *shrugs* Oh well. C'est la vie.
Posted by: Cassanndra at July 20, 2004 07:58 PMHi Poppy! I know EXACTLY what you are talking about--I, too, rented the pump for several months after I finally said "Enough is ENOUGH!" My problem was that I was sure a 2 week old baby should never have to work so hard and be so miserable for his food! We tried for a few weeks, and then I went to the pump. I did exactly what you did. I've decided with my next one, I am skipping the breast altogether and starting on formula. I know LOTS of healthy people who never even TASTED breast milk.
Posted by: Liz at July 21, 2004 12:29 PMMy precious daughter turns 10 months today. I stopped pumping about 2 weeks ago. Over 9 months of pumping.
My mom is a Lamaze Teacher.
My mom is also a Lactation Consultant.
She stayed with me in the hospital.
She came and lived with me for 2 weeks and tried to help me breatsfeed.
My daughter, too had suction at birth because of meconium and breastfeeding just wasn;t happening for us.
I tried. and tried and tried.
And then I pumped and pumped and pumped.
I had hoped to make it for a year but I feel darn good about giving her breastmilk for as long as I did.
Thanks for your words - It's encouraging to hear your own feelings from someone else.
Posted by: Julie at August 27, 2004 04:22 PMI'd just like to say that as an outsider (someone who hasn't had a baby) looking in, I was amazed to find out that breast vs bottle feeding was even an issue. Why does anyone care as long as the baby gets fed one way or the other???
Posted by: Sarah at September 25, 2004 03:09 AM