Wednesday 14 March 2018

Breastfeeding: How it's going

Warning: I'm talking about boobs in this post. Obviously this is in the sense of them being my son's source of food, rather than anything else.

Back when we were having the IVF treatment I found myself swinging between 'definitely going to breastfeed' to 'eh, we'll see how it goes'. When I got pregnant I started out leaning towards seeing how it would go but not wanting to put too much pressure on myself.

I was aware that women who have had fertility treatment can be slightly more at risk of postnatal depression. I guess part of it is because you've had a lot of time to think about being a mum and so you build up a picture of how things are supposed to be, as a result of that you put undue pressure to make everything just right. After all, if you couldn't get pregnant on your own, and then the stuff you're supposed to do as a parent doesn't go the way it's meant to, then perhaps the universe was justified in not giving you that baby naturally; maybe you're not really cut out for it. You can see why it can affect the way a person thinks.

So I didn't want to put too much pressure on myself to breastfeed simply because I didn't want to put too much pressure on myself with regards to anything when the baby was born. I stocked up on bottles (well, my Mum generously stocked us up on bottles) and even got some formula in so we were ready.

But then as the pregnancy progressed and I was so ill I found myself worrying about how I would bond with the baby. Then once I started feeling him move and I did bond with him I became painfully aware of the fact that sooner or later I wouldn't have that close connection with my baby anymore. He'd be out in the world and anyone could comfort him, anyone could change his nappy or cuddle him or put him to bed. But breastfeeding would enable me to be the only one to feed him. And as the pregnancy went on, I became more and more determined to breastfeed.

I was worried, of course. I worried that I would hate it; I'm not really into physically contact all that much and breastfeeding requires quite a bit of physically contact between feeder and feedee. I worried that my milk wouldn't come in or would dry up. I worried that I wouldn't know how much my baby boy was getting to drink. I worried it would hurt. I worried that all the nipple creams contained lanolin and I'm allergic so would have to suffer with dry cracked nipples with nothing to soothe them.

If you can think of a breastfeeding related anxiety, I probably had it. And then some you probably never would have considered as well.

As I blogged about previously, we got off to a slightly rocky start with breastfeeding. The rough delivery and my being so poorly afterwards meant my milk took a while to come in. I was all set with colostrum; with a midwife's help I managed to express 2ml into a syringe on Laurie's birthday. Two measly mils but I felt like a superhero. Laurie lapped that stuff up and it just strengthened my resolve.

I'm a stubborn sort of person, so if someone says I can't do something, it only makes me more determined to do it. So when we had the blip with Laurie's weight and we had to supplement with formula, damnit I was going to breastfeed and I was going to do it well. Even if that meant giving my little boy formula as a top up to help him out.

Once home I was leant a pump by our local midwives. I'd been using the Medela Symphony in the hospital and was expecting something similar. What I got was something altogether more industrial looking and I just couldn't get on with it.

I was supposed to be pumping after a feed, on the breast he'd last fed on. In the hospital I'd been getting 20ml a time (10ml per boob) in 20 minutes. At home I was getting 10ml (that's total from both boobs together) and it was taking an hour. And that was an hour that I couldn't be feeding my son.

It worried me that perhaps Laurie wasn't getting enough milk, that the poor little guy was starving and we'd have to give it up entirely. But then I did a bit of research and discovered the pump funnel I was using was 32ml, whereas the one in the hospital had been 24ml. The 32ml funnel was sucking not only my nipple into the tube but also a sizeable bit of boob. And I'm not exactly small breasted. It was painful and made my nipples look like champagne corks, which Laurie then couldn't latch onto.

I gave it a good couple of goes before abandoning the electric pump. I had more success with the hand pump I got from Boots, except it made my hand cramp, I had to work at it for twice as long as the hospital pump to get 20ml, and the thing kept dismantling itself. In the end I gave the electric pump back as they didn't have a smaller funnel I could use with it.

And to be honest, I've not really needed to pump recently. I was going to before our trip to the mainland the other day but Laurie introduced me to the wonderful world of cluster feeding that Saturday and I couldn't get him off the boob long enough to pump.

But he's obviously getting enough as he's gaining weight well now so while it would be nice for his daddy to feed him occasionally, I'm here with him and it's a lot less effort to pop out a boob than to organise a bottle (or as we've been doing, cup feeding).

As I didn't want to invest too much money in breastfeeding before I knew if I'd stick with it, I didn't get any proper nursing clothing beyond my maternity bras. But it turns out I can just wear what I normally wear.

My usual outfit is a long-sleeved top with a Primark vest top underneath. I thought I'd need to switch to some sort of nursing vest top and button front tops. Turns out that my regular clothes are just perfect, especially the larger size vest tops I got during pregnancy to accommodate the growing bump. I just raise the long-sleeved top, pull down the vest top and unsnap my bra. This means I'm able to discreetly feed Laurie and I'm not flashing too much skin.

I mean, look, you'd never know I was doing it:

Please note, this is also photographic evidence of my first time feeding my son in public.

I was kind of worried about this. I even packed a premade bottle of formula in the nappy bag in case I bottled out. My boy was hungry as we got off the ferry so when we got on the train feeding him was the easiest thing.

I'm lucky in that I'm finding breastfeeding relatively easy. My right nipple can get a bit tender sometimes because Laurie's tongue tie makes latching on this side challenging for him. It's mostly during night feeds when we're both tired that it gets sore because I'm tired and lazy about getting him to stay on correctly. That said, I'm yet to use my £18 nipple balm (lanolin free, obviously, hence the price tag).

Breastfeeding will never be right for everyone. At the end of the day, what's best for baby is being fed, regardless of whether that milk is coming from a boob or a bottle.

But for me, breastfeeding is right for us. It's free, there's no sterilising to fiddle with, there's no preparation beyond arranging your clothes for boob access. I'm cheap and lazy and it works for me.

It also allows me a certain degree of closeness with my boy. I'm hoping to keep going for as long as Laurie wants to.

Though I may need to reconsider how I feel about that once he has teeth!

1 comment:

Let me know what you think. :-)