Steve has the next week off and we have spent the day doing nothing, but loving and holding and kissing C and making up for lost time as his parents and siblings. It has been a much anticipated day.
However, today was not all sunshine and lollipops. Before C was born Steve and I went to a breastfeeding class. Loads of ridiculous guilt were ladled on and I felt so bad for the new parents in the room. But the one thing the teacher drilled into us was that if breastfeeding hurt we were doing something wrong. (And remember...breast is best!) The three lactation specialists I spoke with at Primary Children's Hospital during C's stay emphatically stated that same thing; if it hurts, you are doing something wrong. (And remember...breast is best!) The entire time C was in the hospital I kept trying to get the lactation specialists to work with me, but they did not since he had the potential to stop gaining weight taking the breast instead of the bottle. I was frustrated, but figured women for centuries have been breastfeeding their babies without help so I decided I would figure it out myself when we got home.
So C and I tried our best and these last 24 hours have been some of the most painful of my life. I know I am doing everything "right" and still I am on fire. A few days before C was discharged one of the lactation specialists referred me to a lactation clinic in the community. Defeated, I called them this morning and they saw me this afternoon. I was concerned I was going to have to wait, but they wanted me to be successful and did not want me to be in pain. I did not know what to expect, but it was one of the most incredible office visits of my life.
When the lactation specialist came out to get me she asked our names and to tell her about C's eating patterns. My eyes welled with tears and I explained I had no idea because he had just gotten out of the hospital the day before. She immediately put her arm around me and brought me back to the room while softly clucking and cooing and telling me everything was going to be fine. Turns out she had also struggled with infertility and recognized how much more intense my emotions were as a result. It was a slow afternoon at the clinic and I ended up being able to work with two lactation specialists who fawned over me and C. After the last few weeks we have had, it was what I needed; someone to see C and I as mother and son instead of patient and eventual caregiver. They immediately eased my guilt over "breast is best" when they said "fed is best". They took two hours to answer all my questions, dispel countless myths, and make sure C was latching correctly and getting all the milk he needed. They even cheered when C drank 80 mLs (1/3 cup). They focused on the relationship and the experience and encouraged me to enjoy this time for as long as I am able to produce milk whether that is for one month or one year. Such a weight off my shoulders. But the big thing they identified is that I was not doing anything wrong. C has tongue and lip tie so instead of his tongue massaging the milk out of my breast, he is biting it out. He will need to be evaluated by an oral surgeon to have it clipped. This poor boy (and his Mom) can't catch a break. In the end, though, I cannot say enough good about those lactation specialists. They were exactly what I needed.
However, today was not all sunshine and lollipops. Before C was born Steve and I went to a breastfeeding class. Loads of ridiculous guilt were ladled on and I felt so bad for the new parents in the room. But the one thing the teacher drilled into us was that if breastfeeding hurt we were doing something wrong. (And remember...breast is best!) The three lactation specialists I spoke with at Primary Children's Hospital during C's stay emphatically stated that same thing; if it hurts, you are doing something wrong. (And remember...breast is best!) The entire time C was in the hospital I kept trying to get the lactation specialists to work with me, but they did not since he had the potential to stop gaining weight taking the breast instead of the bottle. I was frustrated, but figured women for centuries have been breastfeeding their babies without help so I decided I would figure it out myself when we got home.
So C and I tried our best and these last 24 hours have been some of the most painful of my life. I know I am doing everything "right" and still I am on fire. A few days before C was discharged one of the lactation specialists referred me to a lactation clinic in the community. Defeated, I called them this morning and they saw me this afternoon. I was concerned I was going to have to wait, but they wanted me to be successful and did not want me to be in pain. I did not know what to expect, but it was one of the most incredible office visits of my life.
When the lactation specialist came out to get me she asked our names and to tell her about C's eating patterns. My eyes welled with tears and I explained I had no idea because he had just gotten out of the hospital the day before. She immediately put her arm around me and brought me back to the room while softly clucking and cooing and telling me everything was going to be fine. Turns out she had also struggled with infertility and recognized how much more intense my emotions were as a result. It was a slow afternoon at the clinic and I ended up being able to work with two lactation specialists who fawned over me and C. After the last few weeks we have had, it was what I needed; someone to see C and I as mother and son instead of patient and eventual caregiver. They immediately eased my guilt over "breast is best" when they said "fed is best". They took two hours to answer all my questions, dispel countless myths, and make sure C was latching correctly and getting all the milk he needed. They even cheered when C drank 80 mLs (1/3 cup). They focused on the relationship and the experience and encouraged me to enjoy this time for as long as I am able to produce milk whether that is for one month or one year. Such a weight off my shoulders. But the big thing they identified is that I was not doing anything wrong. C has tongue and lip tie so instead of his tongue massaging the milk out of my breast, he is biting it out. He will need to be evaluated by an oral surgeon to have it clipped. This poor boy (and his Mom) can't catch a break. In the end, though, I cannot say enough good about those lactation specialists. They were exactly what I needed.
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