I wish that everything came as easy to me as I make it look on the outside. There are so many times that I hear “you are so amazing” or “wow, not everyone can do things effortlessly”. If only it were that simple.
In 2014, our first child entered our lives. This beautiful baby girl came out, not breathing and needed to be rushed to the warmer to increase her APGAR scores. (One of the longest, most terrifying moments in my life.) Thankfully, it was just a little blip and within the hour we were reunited to begin our journey. A very painful journey. Those first few days in the hospital were, well, rough. She would latch to the breast, but the pain was unbearable. The nurses kept repeating “the latch looks great”, but I just wanted to cry every time I thought of nursing her. I would cry every time she latched on, wincing in pain and tears just pouring out. How could something so natural hurt so much??
We went home two days later, nipples bleeding, the color and texture of raw hamburger. By the 5th day of her life, I spiked a fever and had additional cramping in my uterus. As per my PCP (primary care physician), I was directed to the Emergency Room for an evaluation. That’s when we discovered the infection in my uterus. I had to spend an additional three days hooked to antibiotics, nursing my newborn, and with bleeding nipples. Because, again, “her latch is amazing” so I must just be sensitive. I kept reminding myself that my milk is created specifically for her and that I would get used to the discomfort (excruciating pain really) in time.
At Llama’s two week follow up, our PCP looked at me and was in total SHOCK that 1) I was still breastfeeding with raw nipples, and 2) that no one bothered to help me correct her latch so that I wasn’t in pain. I wanted to quit. I was done. My nipples were bleeding, my daughter wasn’t growing, and my faith in my body was failing. This beautiful, natural thing was failing me. I was failing myself. My mom kept repeating, “Give it six weeks, then you can decide.” I didn’t want to, I wanted to give up. Formula seemed like the easier option when I was crying on my bed at 2 AM. My mom just kept repeating herself every time I would cry to her “Every woman feels this way, if you want to be successful, you can’t quit while it’s difficult.”
Thankfully, my doctor also felt the same way. She suggested I get a deeper latch for my daughter but had no idea how as she had never had a baby. This wasn’t as simple as I would have hoped. We had a CLC come to the house as the public health nurse, and she offered a bit more support, but I was still in pain. I then went to my WIC appointment and met with the IBCLC there. She was the biggest help in guiding me to what we needed to do. Once she helped to teach me how to let Llama tilt her own head in a manner she needed, the latch was much better. It’s amazing how much babies listen to the instincts that we ignore. Though, our troubles didn’t end there. Since she wasn’t nursing super effectively in the beginning, and she started as an 8 pound 6 ounce baby, she had dropped in percentiles pretty dramatically. By her fourth day earth side, she weighed 7.72 pounds.
We would nurse every 2 hours as I was told, but she always seemed hungry before that. She would root and search for the breast constantly. I felt as if I couldn’t pull my shirt up at all because she would want to nurse again. I was reassured that this is super normal, but it felt exhausting. Nursing around the clock, 20 minutes every 1.5 hours. By day 18, she was finally back to her birth weight.
We still had a ways to go though, she was expected to double her birth weight rapidly, expecting her to get to 16 pounds 12 ounces by four months seemed like a far cry (for her it proved to be unrealistic), but we kept on nursing. If this kid looked like she might be hungry, offered a breast. Bored, breast; tired, boob; thirsty, boob; I spent more time in those first six weeks with my shirt down than I previously thought anyone should.
“Give it six weeks.” I did. She was finally gaining (9.7 pounds). I gave it six weeks, and I worked so hard for those six weeks. I looked down at this wonderful human and knew I couldn’t end there. Our journey had just begun.