Monday, August 3, 2020

Our Breastfeeding Journey

{Day 1 vs. Day 546}

In honor of World Breastfeeding Week, I thought it was a good time to reflect on my experience nursing Jack. My initial goal was to exclusively breastfeed for 6 months, and my ultimate goal was 12 months. In the end, we made it 18 months! This post is my personal story. I truly believe fed is best and that every mother should feed her child the way that works for her and her baby. 

Let's start at the beginning... Jack latched right on in the hospital. It's so hard to know how much milk your baby is getting when nursing because you can't see/count the ounces. The lactation consultant in the hospital, Laene, was a literal angel. She had the most calming demeanor and helped make sure Jack was getting the nutrient-rich colostrum he needed right after birth. Laene made sure we had a deep latch and I was holding Jack correctly and comfortably. We had a follow-up appointment with her a week after Jack was born, and she was so helpful with tips on pumping, how long to nurse on each side, when to introduce a bottle of expressed milk, etc. By the time of the appointment, Jack had grown past his birth weight and she made me feel like I won a gold medal in nursing!

The first few nights at home were rough, as Jack was cluster-feeding all night long. I was exhausted but fully committed. We co-slept out of ease so he could latch on whenever he wanted to. Those first 6 weeks, Greg and I slept on the couch with Jack on my chest on the chaise lounge. Looking back it was bliss, but in the moment we were tired beyond recognition. Thankfully I have the most supportive husband who always encouraged me, helped wash bottles and pump parts, and changed the nighttime diapers so I'd have a moment to wake up before feeding Jack again.

I started pumping about a month in so I could start a freezer stash before going back to work full-time. Greg gave Jack his first bottle of expressed milk, which took some time for him to adjust to, but he did well with it after a few tries. I have a hate/hate relationship with the breast pump. I had a Spectra S3 and it worked well but I felt like an actual cow being milked. It was so mechanical and didn't give me the warm fuzzies like looking down at my sweet baby. I pushed through with pumping solely to keep my milk supply up. 

We had a few hurdles, but nothing super serious. I had an overactive letdown so the poor thing was practically drowning when the milk started flowing. Jack would pull off my breast screaming and it was heart-breaking. Eventually my supply matched his needs and we had a few months of wonderful feedings. Thankfully I didn't experience mastitis. I had a clogged duct one time, but Jack fixed it right away.

When I went back to work, I pumped twice a day, plus nursed Jack in-person on my lunch break. My parents watched him and they live 10 minutes from my office so I was able to feed him and play mid-way through the work day. I loathed pumping - my anxiety would spike watching how many ounces I was producing. After we introduced solids at 6 months and he moved to his crib for nighttime, my supply dropped. After traveling to my best friend's wedding when Jack was almost 10 months, and being away from him for 2 nights, my supply took a big hit even though I stuck to a pumping schedule while we were gone. I really beat myself up, but with Greg and my parents' support, we decided to supplement with formula. I also decided to stop pumping after a couple days of barely getting any milk - literal drops after 20 minutes had me hysterically crying in the bathroom at work. The stress was crippling and I felt it was better for my mental state to nurse Jack when we were together and give him formula when I was at work.

Once I was free from the guilt, formula supplementing and no longer pumping made me enjoy Jack's feedings even more. It was our time together and I cherish those moments of him smiling up at me, milk dribbling out the corners of his mouth, and him falling asleep on my chest, light suckling in his dreams was the sweetest thing.

By the time he was 12 months old, we cut down our nursing sessions to about 2-3 times a day. We had a big setback at 15-16 months when Jack got really sick and wound up in the hospital during a recurrent fever episode. The only thing that would comfort him was the boob, so that's what we did for 4 days straight in the hospital room - all alone because of the COVID-19 rules and only one parent was allowed in. Probably the hardest thing I've ever done, but that's a story for another day.

When Jack was feeling well again, we transitioned to only before-bed feedings. We would rock in the rocking chair in his room for a few minutes and snuggle before I laid him down in his crib. It was such a special time and one of my favorite phases. I could feel that Jack was ready to wean but I was holding on. We moved the rocking chair out of his room and into the living room. I had a full on meltdown, crying to Greg how I wasn't ready yet but knew it was time. Jack and I nursed in the living room for about a week and he was less and less interested each day. Until one day I didn't go out to the living room to rock. Instead I held him in my arms and rocked him back and forth in front of his crib with his head resting on my shoulder. He hasn't asked or wanted to nurse since. 

It was time for our breastfeeding journey to end and it happened so beautifully. With a gradual transition, my body adjusted really well and didn't have any issues with clogged ducts or anything. Our bond is indescribable and will continue to strengthen and evolve with each new phase we enter together. I nursed my baby boy for 546 days and although it was a bittersweet chapter to close, I will be forever grateful for our amazing experience.