Emotions, Boobs and Magic. A Breastfeeding Story.
This week’s story comes from Ashley. Ashley’s journey is one that is common to many breastfeeding moms with some ups and downs, funny moments, and lots of sweet memories!
A beautiful picture was perfectly painted and stored in my brain of exactly how breastfeeding would go. Thanks to my extensive research, ok, I Googled a lot, I knew what I was doing. February 3, 2014, my husband coached me through labor like a champ that led to a natural delivery with no complications. Unfortunately, the first feeling of defeat came soon after when my little one would not latch. I was only a couple of hours into this whole mom gig and I was failing. Clearly, I did not Google enough. I stuck to my gut and asked the staff not to give formula. “This is new for her too, she will eat when she is hungry.” Those words from my nurse took a lot of pressure away but the fight was still there. Hours went by and still no food. I became frustrated and worried as time passed. The next attempt included the nurse holding my entire sugar water covered boob, in her hand and positioning the baby different ways to latch. Holy unicorns, it worked! I can still remember my husband laughing, saying “I cannot believe you let her do that.” Clearly, he was shocked I let a woman touch and squeeze me while fully exposed and dripping in sugar. I can guarantee you that the scene was not as steamy as it sounds. On that note, welcome to motherhood, breastfeeding edition.
After the hospital hiccup, breastfeeding was mostly a breeze. By breeze, I mean emotional breakdowns, smiles, isolation and euphoria. Does that make sense?? No? Exactly. I absolutely loved breastfeeding. I even ignored the fact that I smelled HORRIBLE. Apparently, the combination of the hormone shift, breast milk and skipping a shower or two is enough to create a body odor out of this world. My days consisted of holding and feeding. I even learned to cook and sweep with one hand. In fact, I still sweep that way, minus the kid cradled to my boob. We had zero routine, so feedings seemed to increase but I never minded it. I started to pay for those constant feedings when it was time to visit friends or family. Euphoria turned into loneliness. I often found myself going into a spare room, locking the door and plopping down on the bed to feed. Feelings of bitterness and jealousy came over me as I would hear the laughter from the next room. I taught myself to overcome the feelings while I lost myself in baby girl’s eyes. The euphoria would return, the sweet suckling sounds put me at ease and my husband would appear to make sure we were ok. The emotional rollercoaster is real, and it taught me the importance of mental and physical wellness.
Now that we were both experts on breastfeeding we started to venture out to restaurants and on vacations. I learned quickly, neither were as fun as they used to be. Most of my dining experience was spent in a bathroom stall. I would rather not have people stare while wrestling my tiny gymnast infant under a scarf. Bathroom stall for 2? Yes, please! Unless you are in Mexico. I vividly remember having to take a feeding break while in town. I went into a bright yellow, concrete building and found a roomy stall. Have you ever breastfed an already sweaty baby, in Mexico’s summer heat? We smelled and it was slippery! One of my favorite memories took place in NY on a family stroll. Baby girl wanted nothing to do with the nursing scarf; I was forced to remove it unless I wanted a screaming baby in the middle of NY. To my surprise, no one batted an eye. I mean, NO ONE. For the first time in 11 months, I fed freely in public without judgement. Later that day, I sat on a bench in Central Park and simply breastfed. I asked my husband to take a picture so I could remember that empowering moment. Fast forward to when we rode a crowded trolley in TN after being at an outdoor concert for hours with our almost 2 yr old tired and cranky comfort feeder. Moments into the ride, my child was saying, “Boob, mommy, I want boob, please boob.” Unlike the NY experience, I received LOTS of looks. The repetition continued. I, in turn responded with, “Book, yes honey, we will read your book.” At least that helped with the stares. The first year was the happiest and easiest. Somehow the universe aligned for us and I was able to stay home for 13 months and I am still thankful for it. Rainbows and sparkles do not last forever though. The greatest challenge was when I started my new job on the evening shift. I pumped each night in an exam room but was not producing much. I tried Fenugreek, lactation cookies [editor side note: you can find our recipe here!], and probably attempted witchcraft a time or two. I would return home at almost midnight to a crying baby almost every time. All she wanted to do was nurse. This lasted about 6 months until day shift finally opened; our routine eventually smoothed out and we found our norm. My journey lasted 2 years. One year too many if you ask my husband. I would have never made it through some of the emotional ups and downs without such a supportive partner; I am forever grateful for him. We need to remember to take care of ourselves not only physically but mentally during the challenging times that breastfeeding, and motherhood alone brings. Enjoy every second mommas, because they grow and so do we.
What do you think about Ashley’s story? We think Ashley did awesome handling the ups and downs that come with this journey in motherhood!
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