Um, yeah. This post is about breastfeeding, so if that makes you squeamish, you might want to click away now.
Before I was a Mom, I thought about breastfeeding as something weird and there was no way I was ever going to breastfeed. At 21, I remember having conversations with girlfriends who'd say they were definitely going to breastfeed when they had kids, and thinking how crazy they were.
Fast forward to 2007, when I had Little Guy. During my pregnancy, I figured I'd give breastfeeding a shot - mostly just to feel like I made the effort, but it wasn't a huge priority. I was a first time mom. I had no idea about anything, and wasn't one of those researchy types who read every book out there to prepare. I was just winging it.
So when I tried unsuccessfully to get a latch in the hospital, and the nurse handed me a bottle of formula, I fed it to my baby. I continued to try at home, never really getting a good latch (but not really putting a huge effort in). So I pumped. But my already hungry for formula baby could eat much more than I could pump and I found myself basically formula feeding and supplementing with breast milk instead of the other way around.
Then I just quit. I felt like, eh. It's not worth the effort. So that was that.
In the years since, breastfeeding has blown up. If you're expecting, everywhere you look and everything you read puts a huge emphasis on how breast is best. You can even attend free classes in your local town teaching you about why you should choose to breastfeed. So when I became pregnant with our new Baby Boy, I knew I needed to make breastfeeding a priority.
There were two things that were super important to me when having my second child: natural, unmedicated childbirth, and breastfeeding.
I suddenly became one of those researchy moms - reading everything I could get my hands on to prepare for my birth and for successful breastfeeding. I was ready.
Except that I wasn't.
Sure, I knew all about how breast was best, and what a successful latch looked like, and that my newborn really only needed a teaspoon full and not to worry about supply. But I also knew that "although I might feel some discomfort, breastfeeding should never hurt." That's what they tell you - that you should never feel pain.
WRONG.
It hurt something fierce.
I had just come out of an unmedicated birth, so I knew the difference between pain and discomfort, but every time my sweet boy latched on I cringed, clenched my teeth, and my eyes welled with tears. And we had a great latch!
It. Just. Hurt.
I spent the first two days Googling. Reading about how there should be no pain when there clearly was.
And then you know what? By the end of the third day, the pain was gone. Apparently my nipples had to "toughen up." No one told me that.
For about a day we were doing great. Then boom. Engorgement.
Yes, it was uncomfortable but nothing compared to the pain of the first couple of days. I did have to pump a little each time before I could even get my baby to latch on though.
Once engorgement ended, I thought, Ok. Now we're getting it.
Until we weren't.
I was eating oatmeal everyday for breakfast, and drinking a cup of mother's milk tea every evening, but by 7pm I was out of milk - or at least it appeared that way. Baby was tugging and pulling (and hurting me!) and getting unbelievably fussy and frustrated. Luckily, I had a bottle of pumped milk in the fridge to get him to sleep with so that my body could use that time to make some more milk.
But almost daily, baby nursed every 45 minutes (sometimes every hour, sometimes every 20 minutes), and the tugging and pulling in the evenings happened more.
I realized that I had more than enough milk at night (since he'd go for 1-2 hours between feedings), so I decided I'd start pumping to reduce the nighttime engorgement and have a stash for the tugging and pulling sessions.
And then.
We bought a pacifier.
Everything you read says "Don't do this!" but we had to. Baby was still feeding so often, and I was so sore. He wouldn't even go down to sleep. He wanted to sleep with me in his mouth, or at least on me, and I am still a human being. I still need water, or food, or to use the bathroom and I wasn't able to do anything.
At 2 weeks I talked to my midwife, and she pumped me up on all the reasons to keep going. I felt so motivated after talking to her, but the next day, it was right back to the same.
I felt like I was losing myself. I couldn't even live. I was stuck on the couch all day long. I stressed about picking up Little Guy from school. I couldn't go to the grocery store or even for a walk around the block with the baby. I was becoming a prisoner. A very sore, tired, lonely prisoner.
Hubby was getting virtually no time with the baby. The baby only wanted me. I fulfilled his every need.
Everything I'd read told me how beautiful breastfeeding was. How much I would love the bonding time with my baby,but you know what? I couldn't even remember the last time I picked up my precious boy because I wanted to. I was feeding him so often that it was becoming a chore - one that I performed like a robot, and I was devoid of those beautiful emotions they told me I'd have. No one told me that might happen.
I was tired. I was overstimulated. My personal space was constantly invaded, and I had nothing left to give Hubby or Little Guy.
I found myself wanting to snap at them for no reason.
Resenting them for being able to play outside, or get themselves a drink of water, or use the bathroom.
I was slowly slipping away. Sinking.
I decided to quit.
I made a bottle of formula and fed it to my baby, crying as he drank it down.
I know that there's nothing wrong with formula feeding, heck, Little Guy drank the Target formula (it was the only one he took well to), and he's awesome. But there are moms who would give anything to be able to breastfeed. Who purchase breastmilk for their babies because they don't want them to drink formula. And here I was, with a perfectly good latch, and a pretty decent supply, quitting because I needed more "me time?"
I felt so selfish.
That's when I decided to take it week by week. I set a goal.
I will make it to the end of the week, and then we'll see.
Then I'd make it to the next week and do the same thing.
By 6 weeks, I almost forgot that I was taking it week by week. Breastfeeding had become much easier, and we were really doing great.
Now we're at 10 weeks and I have no thoughts of quitting anytime soon.
My supply has leveled out. I quit eating oatmeal for breakfast (apparently it was making me ravenous all day), and I rarely need to drink any Mother's Milk tea.
Nursing sessions take about 5 minutes or so and happen every hour and a half to 3 hours.
I even get a 3-4 hour stretch of sleep at night now.
The pacifier has not caused us any problems with latch at all, nor has giving a bottle of pumped milk once or twice a week.
When he's hungry in public, that's still a little awkward for me, so I either bring a pumped bottle, or go sit in the car and nurse.
But I know that in the middle of the night, it would really stink to have to get up to make and warm a bottle when baby wakes. And if we were going on a day trip, I never have to worry about coming home before we run out of bottles.
Breastfeeding really has become as easy as they told me it would be. It just took time to get there.
If you really want to breastfeed, but find yourself struggling, try setting a goal. The end of the week, maybe even the end of the day. It really does get easier by the 6 week mark, but prepare yourself for those first 6 weeks.
And join a support group. I don't know what I would have done without the girls at my birth center, and my breastfeeding mama friends. There's even a great group on facebook called
Breastfeeding/Mama Talk.
Or you can email me. marshmallowmudpie@yahoo.com I may not have all the answers, but just know that I've been in your boat, and it can get easier.
*Did you find yourself struggling at first while breastfeeding your baby?
You are still blinking up at us through those beautiful, light eyes, which seem to be a light brown in the center before spanning out into a mixture of gray and blue. My eyes are similar, only green instead of your gray-blue mix, as are your great grandmother's, so maybe you will keep your color.
You want to sit up so badly, pulling yourself forward with your little ab muscles whenever reclined. I think you're going to be a mover and a shaker. 
