Bad Mom (Part I)

While I was pregnant, I looked forward to breastfeeding.  I wanted to be that mom who could [discretely] whip out her boob in a crowded room, latch her baby, and feed her all she can eat, whenever she wants it.  I was determined  to feed and pump and do everything in my power to exclusively breast feed my little bundle of joy.

My mom couldn't do it.  My sister couldn't do it.  I thought to myself... "Maybe they gave up too soon."  After all, you go to the classes and they tell you if you do this, that or the other thing, breastfeeding is easy.

I call "bull"!  I had EVERY intention of breastfeeding my baby, and at nearly 6 months postpartum, I feel cheated.  I feel like I missed out on my natural right as a woman.  I feel like a failure.  I've asked myself again & again...  What did I do wrong?  I've even called myself a bad mom - all because I couldn't breastfeed. But, it isn't my fault.

At 39 weeks, 1 day gestation I was induced due to preeclampsia.  I was in labor for 36 hours before my water broke, then another 14.5 before Lily's heart rate dropped for a 3rd time and I was put under anesthesia for an emergency cesarean delivery.  (I'll post my birth story at some point.)  Thanks to the need for general anesthesia, I didn't meet my daughter until she was 2 hours old!  At 5:15 pm on Wednesday, August 28, 2013, I took in the view of the hospital ceiling through tear-blurred eyes as I was wheeled into my labor and delivery room where my boyfriend was waiting with our daughter.  By this time, the majority of the things I had asked for in my birth plan had been scratched off the list.  In a hurry to move me to a new room in a different wing of the hospital (all because I had a c-section!), my nurse suggested I order my dinner before the kitchen closed, performed my baby's first bath and other new born procedures they had put off until my arrival, and then - with only a couple minutes to spare before my time in the room was up - get Lily to latch for our first attempt at breastfeeding.  My plans for this moment were to go skin to skin and allow Lily to make her way to my breast on her own time.  This was what I thought our first 2 hours of her life on earth would be.  One more thing to scratch off the birth plan!  Running out of time, the nurse helped me to position baby to my naked breast, then - as I was moving her to my nipple - he placed a nipple shield and put her little mouth over it.

I was stunned.  I didn't know my nipples were considered flat!  My entire pregnancy, they protruded through every bra I owned and it seemed as if they could cut glass!  But they were flat?  I needed a nipple shield to feed my daughter?  I didn't want one, but if I need one.... OK?  It worked out.  She ate from that first breast and fell asleep on the job.  Then we were off to the new room.

In the wing we were moved to, we were assigned to a new nurse.  I ate my [now cold] grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, took my first dose of pain medication, made my arm available for blood pressure readings and got ready to feed my girl again.  Again, the nipple shield was slapped onto the opposite breast.  The baby ate, and her daddy and I were instructed to make notes on the white board (which wasn't always easy, considering he wasn't always available and I couldn't walk again yet).

Most of the 48 hours I spent in the hospital post-delivery are foggy in my memory.  I had help from a lactation consultant who would say it was important to get rid of the nipple shield.  I would work at getting Lily to latch without it - she would cry and I would cry.  Then, a nurse would come and say we need to use the nipple shield.  It got confusing!

While Lily was under the bili-lights, I was instructed by the nurses to go 4 hours between feedings, so she could get what she needed from the lights.  Loved ones would come to visit and see the new addition and I would clam up and be unable to latch Lily.  Both of us were exhausted from our ordeal and would drift off to dreamland mid-feeding.  Challenge after challenge, I felt that I was losing some great battle.

At home we did well.  My milk came in at 5 days postpartum and I thought "OK, I've got this.  I can do this!"  We got into a groove and we made it work.  She was pooping and peeing the way "they" said she should and things were going well, except that I still couldn't get her to latch without the nipple shield!

At her first pediatrician appointment, almost a week after her birth (thanks to an insurance issue!), we were told that she had lost too much weight.  In addition, her jaundice had not left her system yet.  The doctor was concerned and suggested we begin to supplement.  I had prepared for this.  My boyfriend and I had discussed this.  We knew that breast milk is best, and that sometimes it is hard to get going, but we were going to give it our all before we supplemented.  At that moment, we both agreed to supplement.  We didn't want to starve our baby, or keep her jaundice from leaving her system.

That night, we fed Lily her first bottle - which was both a blessing, and a curse.