My Breastfeeding Story, Complete with Happy Ending

When I was pregnant, I had a really relaxed attitude towards breast feeding. If it worked, fantastic! If not, no big thing, formula is great too. Once my daughter Maya was born, though, I knew that I wanted to breast feed her more than anything. I can't explain why; it wasn't specifically about the nutrition or the bonding. It was just something that came from deep within me, some primal driving force.

From the start, she had trouble latching. Sometimes she'd latch and fall asleep too deeply to be roused to keep eating. But more often, she'd just refuse to latch. Throw her head back, cry, and push away. I was assured by the nurses and lactation consultants in the hospital that she'd be fine once my milk came in, and that this was totally normal. They were wrong. Soon after we were discharged, Maya had lost more than 12% of her body weight and our pediatrician had us start supplementing with formula, which helped with her weight. My milk sort of came in the next day, but she was latching so infrequently that it never fully came in. I so regret not pumping that first week, I think that would have prevented so many of our issues, but I had been told in my breast feeding class to hold off on pumping until breast feeding is well established, so I had that stuck in my head.

A week after Maya was born, I connected with a lactation consultant who would become my BFing guardian angel. She made a plan for us that literally consumed me. Our theory was that Maya was rejecting the breast because of my low supply, and if I got my supply up that she would hopefully latch. I pumped using a rented hospital-grade pump for 30 minutes, every 2 hours around the clock. That's 9 30 minute sessions per day. With my supply issues, I had to use both hands to constantly do compressions to see any results (which eventually gave me carpal tunnel, oy!), so I couldn't do anything while I pumped. I was also supposed to try to breast feed her before each pumping session, then top her off with a bottle before I pumped. Needless to say, I had no time to do anything but work on feeding my child. I have no idea what made me stick with it. If she wasn't such a happy, easy baby and I wasn't a SAHM, there's no way I would have. But I was committed, and with my husband's help, we somehow got through it.

I was obsessively tracking my pumping output on a spreadsheet, and was seeing slight increases in my supply, but not much. The thought of someday getting Maya to latch kept me going. By 1 month, I had tried every old wives' tale, eaten dozens of lactation cookies, tried oatmeal, dark beer, big doses of Fenugreek, and nothing was working. My husband was going back to work, and I needed help. My LC suggested trying Domperidone, a prescription GI drug whose main side effect is lactation. It's used fairly commonly as an off-label use for women with supply issues, and after carefully researching it, I asked my OB for a prescription.

It took a while, but by the time Maya was 3 months old, we were able to put away the formula canister, and I even built a decent freezer stash. I would regularly try to breast feed Maya as my supply increased, but she always rejected it. I eventually stopped trying, it just stung too much and made me feel like a failure, even though in my head I knew I wasn't. I recommitted myself to exclusively pumping until my goal, Maya's first birthday.

As happy as I was that my supply was finally good after all that hard work, I continued to feel pangs of sadness and bitterness about being tied to the pump. I felt jealous of people whose breast feeding journeys came so easily. I felt conflicted, knowing that it was totally my choice and I could give it up at any time with no consequences, but something kept propelling me forward.

When Maya was 4.5 months old, life was pretty grand. Maya is an awesome kid and we were having the best time. I was making more than enough milk for her with only 4 pumps per day, and although I had to plan our days around my pumping schedule, I felt like we had it figured out together. One night, as I was giving her a bedtime bottle, I decided to try to latch her on. She ate for 10 minutes with a perfect latch like she had been doing it her whole life. I was stunned. I didn't believe it until it happened again. And again. And again. I was confused and scared; I felt like I was learning with a newborn again. I can't really describe the awe I felt during those first couple of weeks in August, and continue to feel now.

Maya is 7 months old now and is exclusively breast fed. I can't remember the last time I pumped. It took a long time to let go of my disbelief and accept that it wasn't a freak random event; that she'd be nursing for the long haul. Breast feeding has been one of the greatest gifts my daughter and I have given each other. We've had so many adventures that wouldn't have been possible if I was pumping, and I feel so grateful every single time she nurses.

I can honestly say that providing nourishment for my child has been the hardest thing I've ever done, and I'm so proud of both of us for persevering, beating the odds, and coming through this with an incredibly happy ending. I wouldn't change a thing.

~Amy

{Mom to Maya, born 3/25/12}