When nursing falls apart.

Otherwise known as, our experience nursing.

Tiny babes!

I've never been one to make a really specific plan -- about anything in life. I mean, why bother? Everyone knows the best-laid plans often fall apart. I kind of like to have a loose idea in my head re: how something will play out (my week, a family vacation, what we'll do for dinners in the next few days) and then I just do my best to make it all happen, or kind of let the pieces fall as they may.

So when my midwife in California started bugging me about creating a birth plan, or asking why I hadn't turned mine in yet, I was kind of lol about it. "I don't know, can't the plan just be, 'Have the baby at some point?'" I'd joke with James -- (and I think I actually asked midwife Carol this very question, if memory serves me correctly). Oh, and for whatever it's worth, they definitely badgered me into filling out the damn sheet. I kind of filled it out how I just explained:

Q: "What do you have in mind for pain management?"
A: "Um, we'll see how it goes. I'm not against an epidural but I don't want to plan on one, either. TBD!"

For real, the nurses were probably like, "Cool. This is in no way helpful."

Anyway, I didn't have a birth plan, I didn't really read pregnancy books, but I did have a loose idea in my head about how this should all play out. And about how labor and delivery might go, and about how things would operate once the baby arrived. I mean, it's hard to plan, because you have no idea what kind of shit storm you're about to get hit with, but I was like, "Oh yeah, OF COURSE I'll nurse. Duh. Why wouldn't I?"

I'm not really *crunchy* crunchy. I mean, I don't make my own kombucha like some of the girls in my Crunchy Moms Facebook group, I don't own my own chickens, I definitely believe in vaccinating and strongly believe that the top solution for teething is a healthy dose of baby ibuprofen. But I've always considered myself like, 25-35% crunchy just based on the fact that like, when it comes to parenting, I like to do things organically (meaning, on their own, not "feeding my daughter organic food only)." I'm into attachment parenting, baby-wearing, baby-led weaning and only washing my own hair twice a week or so. I used to practice bikram yoga religiously and I'd rather shop local. Etc. Little stuff like that.

So safe to say, nursing definitely fell in line with my plans. I wasn't against formula, but I didn't love the idea of giving my baby formula so early on, when she could just get it straight from the tap, for free. Plus, the bonding! And the fact that we didn't want to introduce new proteins too early on (in fear of Ana developing James' Type 1 diabetes). So yeah, the way I saw it, I was a naturally boss pregnant lady. I had a pretty smooth L&D, all things considered, and I thought breastfeeding would be the most natural thing in the world for us. I had taken the classes at Kaiser, I was equipped with the names and numbers of several private lactation consultants if all else failed, and I was ready to go.

Here's how it actually went down:

Ana was born and immediately did the baby-crawl right on up to the boob. Well, we gave her a little boost toward the end, propping her into position, and she nursed *right* away. Like, I'm saying we didn't even wipe her down first. No one weighed her or bathed her or did anything you see on TV. We did the delayed cord-clamping, James finally cut it, she nursed while I rubbed the vernix into her skin and it was love at first snuggles. She latched right away and her first nursing sesh lasted probably 20 minutes or so. I didn't even feel the pain; if there was any, I was just so elated to have my baby girl out in the world and on my chest.

We nursed the entire time at the hospital with no problem. Lactation specialists stopped by my room constantly on their rounds, and everyone said we were old pros. We passed all our tests, she was feeding around the clock and we got discharged VERY quickly. I labored through one night, stayed one additional for monitoring, and then we were outta there. The hospital photographer hadn't even had a chance to swing by yet.

Once we got home, Ana and I were cluster-feeding just like the name implies: around the clock. I was glad, because the latch still seemed good and she was a pretty happy baby, but after about a week or so, I started to get suspicious. She hadn't pooped, which made me question how much milk she was actually getting. And then more and more, I'd notice how she'd sit at the boob all day, pissed when I'd try to end a nursing sesh early ... but she wasn't really drinking too productively. Or she'd just fall asleep there. Also, I understand that the concept of cluster-feeding is honestly CONSTANT nursing, but she just never seemed to be satisfied. My mom would be all, "But you nurse and then you put her down, right?" Wrong. She was honestly nursing 22 of 24 hours in a day. We would just sit there in the rocker and she'd sip-sip. Still, it never seemed to be enough.

No idea why I'm smiling here; I probably feel like true garbage.

She nursed while I slept on my side, just in a desperate attempt to get ANY shut-eye. And again, without any #2s, I was like, " ... does this mean she's not getting enough?" All my concerns kicked off a solid week, or 10 days or so, of constant trips to Kaiser to meet with an LC. We generally saw the same woman, and she was pretty good. She recommended some new strategies, helped me keep Ana focused on the task at hand and kept us in the BF game for a bit longer. But she would weigh Ana too, and my suspicions were confirmed: Ana didn't seem to be getting enough. Newborns are expected to lose a little weight after they're born, but they eventually re-gain. Ana was losing weight too quickly, and NOT re-gaining. The LC suspected it was palate problems on Ana's end, meaning perhaps my breast didn't line up with her high palate, or maybe she really was just an unproductive eater, which is totally a thing, or maybe I wasn't producing enough.

This launched me into a crazy spiral of trying to make more milk. I started downing normal water, coconut water, special teas, more food, Fenugreek tablets, lactation cookies, you name it. Nothing really worked, with the only exception being an absolute VAT of water. The problem was, I really only had about a week with James' help at our apartment. We had no family in California at the time. I had a really hard time keeping myself constantly fed and hydrated when Ana would SCREAM bloody murder any time I tried to put her down for a sec. I couldn't even pee. It was next-level. We'd just lie around and sleep and nurse all day. I was starving and usually thirsty and I knew none of this was helping. I stopped just short of taking Reglan, a drug prescribed by my midwife, mostly because the side-effects were drowsiness and depression. I was already tired af, and although NOT depressed, I just thought post-partum wasn't a good time to chance my odds. When the LC suggested pumping after each nursing session, and then feeding Ana the pumped milk to supplement, I knew we had to give it a shot.

And it worked!

I finally saw my baby truly relaxxxx for the first time in her short life. She was pretty happy in general, all things considered, but like I mentioned earlier: She wanted to be connected to the breast 24/7. If I put her down, she was tense and angry and rooting. Anytime someone else held her, she'd go for the boob. Embarrassing.

But once I finally nursed her and THEN gave her a pumped bottle, she just like, melted into my arms. I think I was even able to set her down and make myself a sandwich. It was a really incredible feeling. "Oh THAT'S how it's supposed to work," I thought to myself.

Sleeping, relaxed baby! Finally.

So, the bummer part was, that became my life for the next few weeks. Feed her, pump, give a bottle. Feed her, pump, give a bottle. What I'm saying is, she seemed more satisfied finally, and she FINALLY started putting on weight (thank God), but this feeding business was still taking up 22 of 24 hours in the day. I'm probably exaggerating this time, but not by much. It was my full-time job, times seven. And we had to move across the country by car. I knew I wouldn't have time, or be able to get Ana out of the car seat for all the nursing AND pumping. Oh, and it was around this time too, Christmas Day actually, when I developed an infected milk duct. This wasn't mastitis (which also sounds shitty). This felt like lightning bolts IN MY BOOB whenever Ana latched, or whenever I pumped, or whenever I even experienced minor letdown (I didn't let down much, probably hence the low-supply issue).

Anyway, I just remember sobbing to the woman on the on-call nurse line at 4 a.m. on Christmas Day, asking when the pain would stop, or what I could do. Also my parents were flying into Oakland to help us pack up and start the journey home to Michigan. I knew I needed a solution. So basically, the next day, James picked up some prescriptions for me. I then moved to exclusive pumping and then THAT became my life for the next six months.

I pumped four to eight times a day, every three hours or so, and even set alarms on my phone to wake up and do it. I had days and weeks when I was like, "Shit, I really *do* have low supply." I'd cry when I'd only get like, 2 ounces total out of a 20-minute session. But then I'd chug water like it was Natty Light in 2007, and wake up and get 10 ounces. I was proud to say Ana drank mostly breastmilk until she was about 8 months old. At some point, I wasn't making enough to fulfill her entire diet, and we had to start supplementing with formula. But I was just of the mentality, "If this is what she needs -- or what WE need, then so be it. Our sanity is important, too." Also, I felt good about the fact that Ana was always drinking probably 75% pumped milk, and again, I'd only resort to making a bottle when we were absolutely out of fridge-stash. She burned through that stuff FAST though! I was always jealous of FB moms with deep-freezers full of milk. That was not us.

Giving a bottle to Little Miss Minnie Mouse.

And then at some point, I think we were out of town, and I had been pumping less and less toward the end of our road ... I just kind of dried up. Well, I dried myself up, I should say. I swear, I had like, three pumping sessions where I couldn't get much out. By that point, I had come to terms with the fact that I had a growing baby, I couldn't just leave her in the Rock n Play anymore 4-8x a day, and I'd have to be finished soon anyway. I had burned through two pumps, a million accessories and parts, and I was so sick of it all. I was tired of feeling glued to the stupid thing. I just felt done. I also felt a teeny bit selfish? But I honestly think like, I did what I could. For the majority of Ana's first year, I sacrificed sleep, sanity, drinks, plans ... and I was no longer scared of the formula: Kaiser breastfeeding classes be damned.

Maybe the situation would have been different, if it weren't for a cross-country move or whatever, but I was sick of beating myself up about it. (Oh, and I did. Seems silly in hindsight, but like I said, post-partum is an emotionally fragile time).

Just to see my baby satisfied, even with formula, was very fulfilling. She seemed to like it just as much as my milk. If anything, her poops were more consistent (sorry TMI) on it, too. She's still never to this day gotten sick -- knock on wood -- so I don't want to hear anything about how I weakened her immune system (lol). And it's really not as expensive as everyone makes it out to be. Sure, I probably saved loads of cash by pumping as much as I did, but like, if you just buy the yellow can from Costco, that thing is less than $20 and lasts foreverrrrrr.

(If you're used to constant dinners out and dranks, which our old life afforded, the cost is really NBD).

Anyway, Ana is 21 months now. She is strong, happier than ever, healthy and smart. I remember crying in bed at our old apartment, feeling like I was failing on such a basic level: I couldn't even provide enough milk to sustain my precious baby. Everything else went so well, but I failed at this. I recall thinking that if I had to give her a bottle, I'd die. Of embarrassment, of let-down expectations ... oh, and plus, when you're post-partum, you're usually a little crazy (I think I've said that a few different ways now). I didn't experience depression, but my feelings were just like, amplified. Hard to explain! I was tearing up left and right and couldn't even keep my shit together. But now I look back and I'm just like, "Why were you so scared of the formula again?"

All the painful nipple stuff didn't even stack up to my bruised emotions (and yes. The nipps burn).

Anyway, the moral of the story is, things don't always go as planned, WHICH I KNEW, yet I was still heartbroken and I went through this roller-coaster ride of pump sessions for the next 6-8 months to make up for it. If you have to give a bottle, just know that it's going to be fine. All our moms were formula-fed; it was a thing. Oh, and happy mama = happy baby? Truer words have honestly never been spoken. And once I was able to detach myself from the pump and play with my sweet daughter even more ... I swear, it made me feel like a happier and better mom instantly.

Your worth as a mom does NOT hinge on how you feed your baby.

I'll leave you with some of the lessons I learned along the way:

1.) Latch isn't everything.
People always want to ask about latch, or act like this sets the stage for all else. I even thought this was the big pass or fail on breastfeeding: whether the baby had a strong latch. Ana could latch like a champion, but then we still had 99 probz. Tongue-tie is a thing, palate issues are all too real, milk production ... the list probably goes ON and on. But don't assume you're out of the woods if your kid can latch.

2.) Breastfeeding is a full-time job. Or two or three full-time jobs.
Don't expect to just nurse and put her down (even under best-case scenario). Cluster-feeding is intense af and in those first few weeks, they are hungryyyy.

3.) The more you nurse or pump, the more milk you'll make.
I read this everywhere and it was pretty true. It's why I pumped so much. Even when I didn't yield much, it was still important to tell my body that it was needed. (It's a supply and demand thing).

4.) You can still bond with your baby while giving him a bottle.
Make plenty of eye contact. Sing songs, read if you're on a surface that allows that, give plenty of cuddles and make it a shared experience. I swear, when I was struggling through nursing sessions (or when I had my infected duct and couldn't even open my eyes through the pain), we were NOT bonding. I swear you can bond just as much through the bottle or the breast.

5.) Listen to your gut.
Speaking of that infected duct, my midwife was like, "Yeah yeah whatever, get her back on the breast ASAP. No matter what/at all costs/I don't care if you die." K maybe not that last part, but it sure felt like it! Honestly, I was already reading up on exclusive pumping and supplementing with formula by that point. My gut was telling me it was what we needed at that time in our lives, I trusted it, and I have no regrets. You have a mom instinct too, and you should lean on it. You know best what would work for you two.

6.) If you honestly think nursing sounds horrible and it's not for you, then don't do it.
Obviously this is just my opinion, but I've spoken with a fair number of moms over the past two years or so who are uncomfortable with it for whatever reason. Do you, mamas. And speaking of which ...

7.) Just never read the comments section on any mom posts/FB shit/etc.
Fed is best. Remember that. No one else is living your life.

8.) Expect nursing to be hard, and you might have complications, but you also might not.
I think I expected it to be too easy. And on the flip side, I think you hear a fair amount about how challenging it can be. But like, my cousin nurses her daughter like a champion, has never really had a complication, and makes a ton of milk. Same with this girl whose blog I stalk. For some people, it's just easier. Who knows why. Drink those fluids, don't be afraid to call for help and get after it!

9.) Beer doesn't always help.
I read somewhere that if you have weak supply, drinking a beer can prevent you from letting down all the way. Now, who knows. I know beer has some good ingredients for you when you're nursing (in moderation, of course). But for me, beer didn't make a diff -- 2007 Natty Lights be damned. SHRUG.

10.) Just because it went poorly with one kid, doesn't mean it will next time.
So, fingers crossed for baby #2! I will drink all the water in the world and stock up on healthy snacks ... because ain't nobody got time to chase a crazy toddler and pump around the clock. That just won't be happening this time around.

11.) Nursing can make you CRAZY HUNGRY.
I swear, I've never been hungrier.

12.) But if you hold onto a little extra weight, that's totally normal.
That's evolution, I guess.

13.) Although I've kind of touched on this, don't compare yourself to others.
Sure, maybe some other mom CAN nurse without as many problems, but again, none of this is a reflection on how good of a mom you are. You probably have something she doesn't, just like she has something you don't. It's all a balancing act.

14.) You can totally still have cocktails.
This is why they make those test strips. Also, less alcohol is absorbed in your milk than you'd imagine.

15.) Not everything is so black/white.
I remember when my LC suggested supplementing with my own milk. "People do that?" I asked. ... I was definitely naive as to what my options were. I thought it was BF *or* formula-feeding, and I hadn't even really considered a combo, when the concept was first introduced. We need to talk more, as women and moms, about our options and what works best in different situations.

There you are: A way-too-long post on nursing! I hope you all have way better luck than I did, or at least, if you're having a shitty time, you can rest easy knowing we did, too.  ;)  You are NOT alone.