Before my daughter was born, never did I want to breastfeed. Never did I think it was even something I would try. I did not want to be the mamma cow. I did not want to expose my breasts or have someone I did not know helping me, touching my breasts and my baby trying to get the baby to latch. To me, it was an awful and gross situation. I was never against other people choosing that route though. My best friend in the entire world was popping her first baby on and off the boob the entire time I visited them, and it did not bother me. It only bothered me when I (rarely) saw a toddler hanging from mamma…but I am just talking about me and how I felt. No judgment, it’s all a matter of personal choice.
I come from a family of 4 kids and 5 grandkids (before my daughter) none of which were breastfed, to my knowledge. It just wasn’t in my blood…until I got pregnant. My husband is the opposite, he is all for breastfeeding and the right to do it when and were you want to. He comes from a long line of breastfeeding mothers. My thoughts changed when we became pregnant. I didn’t tell anyone I was on the fence really, not until closer to the end of my pregnancy. It isn’t something that I could easily talk about. Not something I brought up in conversation BUT if someone else asked or brought it up, I would join in.
I purchased a breast-pump and I bought the extra pieces. Hubby rewarded me with a name-brand diaper bag that I really wanted. I was ready to try, with rules. I wanted no help. I did not want anyone but my husband in the room when I first tried. I didn’t want anyone in the room when I was feeding at anytime unless absolutely necessary. Not all went as planned, but we tried.
My daughter was born via C-section because she did not want to come. Turns out she was 10.1 pounds and never dropped down far enough to induce labor. As soon as I was over the shakes from coming off of the epidural, I held my baby and asked when I could feed her. We were still in the recovery unit. They told me I could as soon as I was comfortable. I had watched videos, read blogs and searched the Internet and now that I saw my precious baby’s face, a different feeling came over me and I was ready. With my husband and about 3 other nurses in the room, I latched her on and she was like a vacuum. The nurse popped her head over and said she looked latched perfect. I asked how long to keep her there and the older one chimed in quickly telling me 20 minutes…she nearly ruined breastfeeding for me. My little 10 pound vacuum cleaner spent about 15 minutes latched on to something with NOTHING coming out. Once I got into my room, the nurse told me 5 minutes each side and if she’s still hungry after that, switch back.
Well, because I had a C-section, my body didn’t really know what was going on. I didn’t even produce colostrum, maybe ONE drop a day, for about 2 days after surgery. They brought in a pump for me, and still nothing. I continued to feed her, but we had to supplement her with small amounts of formula, because she was so hungry and getting nothing from me. That 1oz of formula and she slept for hours. By the time we got home 3 days later, it was a fight to latch her on, and I still had nothing for her. She wanted the bottle.
I will tell you about our experiences at home in my next segment.
Until Next Time,
The Not-So-Single Mom
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