During my pregnancy, I never doubted the fact that I was
going to breastfeed. It wasn’t even a
question in my mind. Breastfeeding is
natural, normal and was the default option in my mind. My mum breastfed all of us, my youngest
sister in fact until she was 3 years old, and I had never even seen anyone
bottle feed. One of the first gifts my
mother gave me when I was 8 weeks pregnant was “The Art of Breastfeeding” by
the La Leche League. It is a lovely
book, full of wonderful information about breastfeeding, and it is what planted
the seed of homebirth in my mind.
However, despite all the troubleshooting tips and discussion of the
difficulties, I still got the overall impression that breastfeeding was going
to be all amazing bonding with my child while angels danced around me singing
hallelujah.
Pretty much as soon as my baby was put on my chest, she
started seeking out the breast, which was amazing to see, that pure natural
instinct. But my first surprise in my
breastfeeding journey was that she didn’t know how to latch on – and I didn’t
know how to help her. She didn’t
actually end up feeding until hours later as I was about to be discharged from
the hospital – the midwife luckily asked me if we had fed yet and as we hadn’t,
showed me how to do it. My second
surprise was that teaching her to latch involved holding her head and basically
shoving it firmly onto my nipple. The
roughness of it was not what I expected.
For something so “natural”, it wasn’t that intuitive to begin with.
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| Bubba tries to find boobie |
Luckily my baby was a born breastfeeding pro (and not all
are!) and we soon got the hang of it.
She had a strong sucking reflex and latched well right from the
beginning (not all women are this lucky, some have a great deal of difficulty
establishing correct latch). However,
despite her excellent latch, my virgin nipples were soon excruciatingly
painful. Every time she latched on was
absolute agony for about a minute and I began to dread every feed – given she
was feeding every 1-2 hours, that’s a lot of agony!! By the end of the first week I had had enough
and was honestly ready to give up breastfeeding if a wonderful friend hadn’t
come to visit bearing breast shields.
Breast shields are little plastic teat-like things that you put over
your nipple while your baby drinks and provides a bit of a barrier to give your
nipples time to heal. These were
absolute sanity savers for me, made a huge difference and saved my ability to
breastfeed. After just a few days, I was
able to get rid of the shields and breastfeeding never hurt again.
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| Breast shield - your nips will thank you! |
My next surprise, however, was how I felt about
breastfeeding. I had been concerned
during pregnancy about how breastfeeding would feel, as my breasts have always
been an integral part of my sexuality, and the thought of having a baby suck on
them was a little hard to get my head around.
I kind of just assumed, though, that because it is so “natural”, that
when the time came, it would be fine. Turns
out, making that shift is really not so easy.
I felt very uncomfortable with breastfeeding for quite a long time. It did not feel like bonding. I didn’t like it at all. I didn’t sit there gazing at my baby full of
love – I just felt weird and uncomfortable.
It was just a chore.
My first turning point came when I realised that maybe it
was ok for it to just be a chore. Maybe
it didn’t have to be all love hearts and kumbaya – maybe it was just like
changing nappies… I don’t love it but I do it because it has to be done to care
for my baby. It is cheaper and more
convenient than formula feeding, and maybe that was reason enough.
It wasn’t quite enough though, as I continued to feel very
uncomfortable with it. There is a lot of
stigma around bottle feeding these days, with breastfeeding pushed heavily, but
at the end of the day, in no other part of life would a woman be stigmatised
for saying “no” to a use of her sexual parts that she felt uncomfortable
with. I did a lot of research on the
topic of breast versus formula feeding and a lot of soul searching, and decided
to try a bottle of formula with her when she was about 3 weeks old. Just to see how it went. I knew that if it felt like immediate relief
feeding her with a bottle instead of my breasts, then maybe formula feeding would
be the right choice for me. I truly
believe that a happy mum equals a happy baby, and that if breastfeeding is
impacting negatively on the mother’s mental/emotional health or on her ability
to bond with her child, then breast in that case may not be “best”. The most important thing is that a child is
loved and fed by a happy mum.
My second and most important turning point in my
breastfeeding journey came the day when I decided to try a bottle of
formula. That feeling of relief and
having my body back was what I was expecting to feel. What I actually did feel was completely
unexpected. Having never had a bottle
before, I wasn’t sure how she would take it.
I followed a recommendation to use Nuk bottles (which are great by the
way!), and she latched on after only two tries and immediately started gulping
the milk hungrily! Did I sigh in
relief? Did I think “oh thank god, this
feels so much better”? No – I felt a
deep ache within me, pulled her off the bottle after only two gulps and put her
on my boob. I felt jealous of the bottle! Everything in me was crying “no, you’re
supposed to get that from me!” *I* was
her source of nourishment, *I* was the
one who induced those sleepy milk smiles, *my* milk was supposed to be what she
wanted – that was something special for just her and me. I had never enjoyed feeding her as much I did
during that feed.
Which is not to say it was completely smooth sailing after
that. I still continued to struggle from
time to time with the feeling of being uncomfortable using my boobs that way,
of wanting my body back after 9 months of it belonging to someone else
entirely. I didn’t start zealously
loving breastfeeding, the light didn’t start getting all rosy and hazy every
time I fed. But I just knew that there
was this deep part of me that needed to do it.
I needed that connection with my child, I needed to nurture her in that
way. Even if I didn’t always like it,
some instinct in me needed to do it.
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| Mum, boob is so EXCITING! |
I did learn an important lesson in open mindedness though. I learnt that there are a huge variety of
reasons why a woman may chose not to or not be able to breastfeed, and that all
of them are acceptable, and no mother should ever be judged for her choice of
how to feed her child. All women have
the right to choose how to use their body and what they are comfortable
with. Some women would dearly love to
breastfeed but, for various reasons, are unable to. Some women simply don’t want to, for reasons
of their own, and that is also ok. I
learnt never to judge another’s choices until you have walked a mile in their
shoes – or even half a mile, or even just tried their shoes on.
I did come across this very interesting article,
The Case Against Breastfeeding. It is not
actually “against” breastfeeding as the title suggests, but rather investigates
more closely all the superlative claims made by the pro breastfeeding movement,
such as ideas that not breastfeeding will make your child sick, fat and
stupid. Turns out, the much touted
benefits of breastfeeding may not be as huge as much of the health literature and
many “lactivists” would have you think.
I find it interesting though, that right at the end of the article, the
author admits that despite all she found in her research, she herself still
breastfeeds. There is certainly some kind
of instinctive aspect to it that no amount of research can remove.
I also came across a wonderful site called
Fearless Formula Feeder. It is a great place of support
for women who chose to or have to formula feed for whatever reason. It think it is fabulous for these women to
have a positive, supportive community such as this, as I think mothers who
formula feed are subjected to far too much stigmatism in today’s society. We are all just trying to do the best we can
by our babies, and I wish we wouldn’t judge each other so much. I also think it’s worth checking the site out
even if you are a committed breastfeeder – some of the stories may just make
you think twice before judging that mum in the parent’s room heating up a
bottle for her baby.
Even now, four months on, I wouldn’t say that I *love*
breastfeeding. But I don’t hate it or
find it uncomfortable anymore either. It
has grown on me. I gave myself 6 months
as a goal – but now I think I will most likely breastfeed her beyond that. In fact, I think I might even be sad when I decide
to stop. ‘Cos I gotta be honest, nothing
quite beats the way they look at you with those breastfeeding eyes…
… ok, maybe a little part of me loves it. Just a little bit.
