Nursing: Our story

Disclaimer: This is likely not interesting to anyone that does not have a little one at home, or is working out problems with nursing. Feel free to read on, pass on, etc. but don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Little Bear and I have had quite a tumultuous nursing relationship. We’re to a place that I am fairly happy with at the moment but it’s taken a long time to get here. I want to share my story with others for  the same reason that I have been pouring over nursing blogs in the past couple of months: to offer at least one more voice of support, one more story in the archive, one more real life mom out there who says “You can do it!”

My labor with Little Bear was induced, which means that I had a saline drip for the better part of a day (from about noon to 3 am, when she was born). I also had an epidural, starting at about 9pm. When Little Bear was born, she weighed 8lb 1oz and was alert, awake, and healthy. The doctor put her to my breast right away, but with all the people waiting to see her, and my general clumsiness as a new mom, I don’t think that first nursing session was very successful. Also, I have no idea how the epidural affected her nursing, or if it did at all. Honestly, looking back on the first few days is kind of blurry now. I know that I kept trying to breastfeed her every few hours but I had the sense that she wasn’t getting much. The next morning, her weight was down to 7lb 4 oz. The nurses explained that part of that was normal, as babies tend to take on water weight when the mom has an iv. However, Little Bear’s bilirubin levels were also high. This meant that she had jaundice, which also made her very sleepy. I have no real experience with newborns, but I know that she slept all the time for the first three weeks of her life. While we were still in the hospital, she especially slept whenever she nursed. I was frustrated and worried she wouldn’t get enough, not only to sustain her, but for the jaundice to go away.

One of the hospital’s IBCLC’s came in and helped us out a few times, which I liked. Little Bear had a very shallow latch, though I didn’t know the name for it at the time. It hurt when she nursed AND she wasn’t able to get that much, which mean that my milk didn’t come in very quickly, or in very great amounts. No one suggested that I go get my pump though, in retrospect, that’s what I should have done. So I kept (unsuccessfully) nursing every few hours. At some point, the IBCLC asked if I wanted to supplement with formula. She said it would be “just until my milk came in” or until Little Bear was better at nursing AND told me I could do it without using a bottle. I knew enough (and really, despite how this sounds, I had read a LOT) to know I didn’t want to use a bottle, but this tube and syringe method sounded intriguing.

So we started supplementing. Again, in retrospect, I would have said “no” and given my (and her) body time to adjust. That’s not really fair, though. I made what I thought was the best decision at the time. What I mean to say is that next time, I will say “no.” But I said “yes” and we started down that slippery slope. You know, it’s really hard, being a new parent and wanting what’s best for your baby, but hearing different opinions on that from everyone you meet/read/listen to. Her jaundice got worse after we left the hospital, and she wasn’t gaining that magic 1oz/day. She slept all the time, I fed her all the time, and my life was taken up by either sleeping, feeding myself, or feeding her. Thank goodness I had the support of Papa and my mom to clean out all those tiny pieces because I don’t know what I would have done.

Those days are a blur. I met with an IBCLC twice a week for weigh-ins and coaching. We used nipple shields because her latch was so painful, kept up with the tube and syringe and I pumped every other feeding session. I could have done more but when you’re in the midst of that sleep-deprived, hyper-anxious, new parent state, there’s a line you have to draw between making yourself crazy and, in this case, pumping all the time. And let me tell you, I loved my lactation consultant. We finally got the latch down properly, she applauded our victories, no matter how small, and kept my ultimate goals in mind (exclusive breastfeeding, breastfeeding to at least a year old). Eventually we switched from the syringe to bottles and worked on slowly cutting down the amount of formula/expressed breast milk that Little Bear got each day. And we documented EVERYTHING. Every diaper, every nap, every ounce, every minute of her life. I also was taking a barrage of herbs and supplements, eating my oatmeal, and drinking (water) like a fish but none of it seemed to make any difference.

The first time my lactation consultant mentioned taking medicine, I cried in her office. I tried to pass it off like I was coughing but I’m sure she knew better. A few weeks later, though, when I had started weaning her from the supplements and she still wasn’t gaining weight, I got the prescription. It doubled my milk supply, at least based on what I got from pumping, which was great! So we kept at it.

There were weeks there during the summer when I almost thought it would be possible. I was cutting down the formula and she was so close, just 4-6 ounces per day away from exclusive breastfeeding. And there was one day that I didn’t give her any formula or ebm at all… and I was so proud. But she stopped gaining weight. And I got worried and didn’t trust my body, so we started with the formula again. I kept pumping, I kept breastfeeding (for awhile we went back to every two hours) but I think that’s when I gave up on at least one of my hopes.

Around that same time, I started noticing that I was nervous and anxious all the time. I had sort of attributed it to starting work again, but one day it occurred to me that it might be the Reglan that I was taking. I went in to my OB and he was  nice enough to prescribe Domperidone to me, even though it’s not FDA approved and certainly isn’t covered by my insurance. This is a good time to mention that Papa has been incredibly supportive through all of this. He went to appointments with me, brought me food and water while I fed her, and has stood up for me to (thankfully few) questioning family and friends. In any case, thte Domperidone increased my supply about as much as the Reglan did and I started feeling better, but I still wasn’t able to get her completely off the formula. I kept seeing the IBCLC but eventually, she ran out of suggestions to give me and one day I just stopped going.

So that’s where we ended up. I still take the Domperidone and, work days, nurse Little Bear once in the (early) morning, once at night, and pump once during the day. My supply seems stable (with the meds) and she still enjoys the time we are spending together (that is to say, she doesn’t prefer a bottle, sippy cup, or even solid food now that she eats it). It still makes me sad every time I mix up a bottle for her and I keep thinking of how it will be different the next time around. I will trust my body more and the scale less. I will pay more attention to diapers, alertness, and her cues than I will to doctors, charts, and growth curves. But I do have at least one reason to celebrate: Little Bear turned 8 months old this week and we’re still going strong. I think we’re going to make it to the year mark and, despite all of these things that I feel bad about, that is something that I am proud of.