Becoming a first-time mom was an overwhelming experience for me. I was instantly filled with so much love for my tiny human - she made me so happy and all she had done was exit my body and cry. Unfortunately, when the reality of what I had just gone through and would continue to go through sunk in, it hit me like a freight train. My body underwent the most physically traumatic changes it has ever been through. Sleeping to recover was not an option. And if that wasn't enough, the hormone-induced roller coaster mood swings and basically 9 months-worth of periods all rolled into one was the cherry on top.
This post is not about any of those things, though.
During my pregnancy, breastfeeding was something I felt very strongly about wanting to do for my kids, but I had been warned by friends and nurses: "It can be difficult. Don't give up!"
When Ari latched in the hospital during her first 24 hours, I thought we'd conquered it all. In the days that followed, I breastfed around the clock, barely slept, and cried at just about everything. When we were referred to a lactation consultant, Ari was almost a week old and already down several ounces from birth. (It is normal for babies to lose a certain (read "small") amount of weight after they are born.) We took the LC's advice, kept trying and scheduled Ari for a weight-check the following week to make sure everything was picking up.
It wasn't. She was still losing weight and would cry all night unless someone was holding her. I still wasn't sleeping and was almost as inconsolable as Ari was, which does very little for milk production. After another appointment with the lactation consultant, we determined Ari was not getting enough to eat. I was devastated. My body's job, now that it was no longer a house, was to provide sustenance for my baby. And it couldn't do that (well). I felt broken. But, as we talked about how to supplement after nursing and were given samples of formula, it stopped mattering to me that my baby was no longer being exclusively breastfed. She was basically starving, so I was going to do whatever it took to take care of her. #FedIsBest.
That first nap she took after we started supplementing with formula was such a relief. The first night she slept for 3 hours straight was absolute bliss. Going to her next weigh-in and hearing that she was back up to her birth weight was heaven. I started to relax - we were figuring things out and finding our rhythm.
I just had to learn to accept that my body was doing the best that it could - that I was not broken. I refused to talk about this, what I saw as a failure, with anyone except my husband and our doctors. I didn't want to expose that vulnerability to the judgment I thought I would receive. I felt alone. Then, I remembered an article a friend shared along with her personal story about this very same topic and I realized I wasn't alone. But, I still wasn't ready to talk about it.
This post is not about any of those things, though.
During my pregnancy, breastfeeding was something I felt very strongly about wanting to do for my kids, but I had been warned by friends and nurses: "It can be difficult. Don't give up!"
When Ari latched in the hospital during her first 24 hours, I thought we'd conquered it all. In the days that followed, I breastfed around the clock, barely slept, and cried at just about everything. When we were referred to a lactation consultant, Ari was almost a week old and already down several ounces from birth. (It is normal for babies to lose a certain (read "small") amount of weight after they are born.) We took the LC's advice, kept trying and scheduled Ari for a weight-check the following week to make sure everything was picking up.
It wasn't. She was still losing weight and would cry all night unless someone was holding her. I still wasn't sleeping and was almost as inconsolable as Ari was, which does very little for milk production. After another appointment with the lactation consultant, we determined Ari was not getting enough to eat. I was devastated. My body's job, now that it was no longer a house, was to provide sustenance for my baby. And it couldn't do that (well). I felt broken. But, as we talked about how to supplement after nursing and were given samples of formula, it stopped mattering to me that my baby was no longer being exclusively breastfed. She was basically starving, so I was going to do whatever it took to take care of her. #FedIsBest.
That first nap she took after we started supplementing with formula was such a relief. The first night she slept for 3 hours straight was absolute bliss. Going to her next weigh-in and hearing that she was back up to her birth weight was heaven. I started to relax - we were figuring things out and finding our rhythm.
I just had to learn to accept that my body was doing the best that it could - that I was not broken. I refused to talk about this, what I saw as a failure, with anyone except my husband and our doctors. I didn't want to expose that vulnerability to the judgment I thought I would receive. I felt alone. Then, I remembered an article a friend shared along with her personal story about this very same topic and I realized I wasn't alone. But, I still wasn't ready to talk about it.
Two months have gone by since the birth of my daughter and I'm finally ready to talk about what I'm working through. I wanted to do this because I think the more that women talk about it, the more we will normalize breastfeeding and all of its rewards - and challenges.
Just remember:
1) You are not broken and you are certainly not alone. Be proud of what your body has just been through and what you are doing currently. If you're ready for it, talk to other moms.
2) Healthy mom, healthy baby. Mom needs to be able to take care of herself in order to take care of baby. Get some sleep and keep an eye out for post-partum depression.
3) Be flexible! You may plan to breastfeed exclusively, but it may not happen. It's OK!
You got this, mommy!
Thank you for sharing! Every mom has her own struggles. I'm trying to work up the courage to start sharing my own story now. :)
ReplyDeleteExactly! Every mom, every baby, every situation is different. But I think as long as we're a supportive community of mommies, we can all get through the struggles together. You'll share when you're ready :) You've got this!
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