Dawn's Stories - Two Babies, Two Different Stories

I distinctly remember being at the doctor getting a physical as an early teen. The doctor looked at my right breast and noticed I had an inverted nipple. She commented how I might not be able to breastfeed, but otherwise it was ok. I didn’t think it was too much of a loss at the time. I never really liked the idea of something drinking milk from me. Flash forward to my thirties, and I still had some gripes about doing the making and feeding of the baby, but was on board with trying to have our first. From the start of the pregnancy I thought, if my milk comes in I guess I will give breastfeeding a try, but no loss if it doesn’t work. At my 20 week scan, I got an unfortunate surprise. My son was diagnosed with a diaphragmatic hernia and given a 50% chance of survival.  I was devastated. I spent the rest of my pregnancy getting scans every few weeks, and meeting with surgeons and even hospice care. It was a struggle to remain strong. As the due date got closer, the doctors and midwives started pointing out that there was something I could do for my baby and that was feed him my milk. So that was that, if I could help my baby survive I was on board. After he was born my husband helped me suction colostrum from my nipples into a syringe while I hand expressed. I proudly handed the .1 ounces to the nurses to deliver to the NICU each time. Once my milk came in, I got a quick lesson on how to use a pump and did it religiously for 20 minutes every 3 hours as the midwives had instructed. For 3 and a half weeks my son was on a ventilator and received minimal milk.  I continued to pump every day to keep up my supply with the hopes someday he would eat from my breast. The magical day came when he was taken off his ventilator and was ready to eat! I was beyond nervous with midwives all around as they handed me my baby and said “ok you can feed him now”. I had to pivot from a pumping mama to a breastfeeding one.  Luckily, he had a good latch. The big issue was I had way too much milk at that point. All of that pumping had caused my supply to skyrocket. The let down was so fast he would move for a breath and get sprayed in the face. That week I dealt with mastitis and balancing out how much he would actually eat. He really liked to eat, but he had many gastrointestinal issues after his surgery which gave him problems with reflux. His lungs were also still trying to catch up after not being properly formed at birth. We had many messy feeds, with tears on both sides.  The demands to feed him were often day and night. He refused a bottle.  He would wait all day at daycare to come home and feast for hours. I was the only one who could feed him. The stress of never being able to be away for more than 2 hours was rough. The words from the midwives stayed strong in my head when I wanted to give up,”my milk would help heal him”. 

Later that year he had a boudt of diseases ranging from RSV (twice) and two flu strains at the same time.  All of those events landed him back in the hospital, sometimes in the high dependency unit.  Those weeks he was given IV fluids and then a feeding tube.  I would struggle to find any pump they could give me at the hospital to stop my breasts from getting engorged and going down the mastitis road again. During one of his sicknesses, my milk supply dropped off to almost nothing. Having no milk and a sick baby was a terrible feeling. I felt incredibly blessed that once he could feed again it came back. 

Our relationship with feeding followed this sad familiar road through 5 hospital stays before he was 1. After that, he continued to get sick, but thankfully not enough to put him in the hospital.  I kept feeding him, as much as he would take. I wanted to help him be healthy and strong the only way I knew how, my milk. When he reached 2 I was aware the World Health Organization even said you could stop breastfeeding then, but our bond was so strong I didn't know how to end it.  It broke my heart to think we wouldn’t have those special cuddles and I thought how would I give him the immunity he needs to be well? He was getting so big though it was hard to hold him in the feeding chair.  I talked to him about it a few times, and one night when he said no to milkies, as he called them, and that was it.  We stopped breastfeeding. It was at that moment it felt like this was the first time he was going out in the world on his own to be strong and grow. He was 2 years and 3 months old. I was very sad to be done, but knew in my heart it was the best thing to do for both of us. 

 For my next pregnancy I was more than excited to try again with hopes it would be a healthy pregnancy with a healthy baby and I too could be wheeled from the delivery room with my baby in my arms. Sadly, my next attempt at a pregnancy quickly ended in miscarriage. 

I felt very lucky to get pregnant for a third time.  At the 20 week scan the baby was healthy and growing!  There was no talk of NICU, and surgeries. I was so happy to hear that but my excitement was a bit squashed when the doctor gave me the news that I was diagnosed with a low lying placenta.  She put me on pelvic rest for the rest of my pregnancy.  My dreams of a holistic birth experience were gone.  For my and my baby’s safety they suggested I have a c-section.  A week before my scheduled c-section date I awoke to bleeding, not broken water like I thought it was. The experience was terrifying, but the fact that I was able to cuddle my baby fairly quickly and have him attempt to latch made up for it. I couldn’t believe he was in my arms and was already trying to feed!  He did eat for a small bit and I was over the moon. All the sadness of having a baby whisked away to the NICU was healed with that one moment of cuddles and breastfeeding with my less than 1 hour old newborn.  

While in the hospital breastfeeding was encouraged. I thought, not to worry I got this, I breastfed my first for over 2 years! Well my second son had a different idea. He would latch, but not well and would fall fast asleep without getting enough milk. I had many lactation specialists come by to help me, and nothing felt more frustrating than being told how to breastfeed when you’ve done it before. I couldn’t get over why it was just not working out. The idea that breastmilk was best and it was what my child needed to be healthy rang through my head so loudly and filled me with pressure to make it all work. Once home, frustrations grew as my new tiny baby was not eating and was starting to lose weight. His doctor wanted us to syringe feed him in addition to breastfeeding. For me that meant, making time to breastfeed and then also pump so there would be milk to syringe feed him with. Even with the syringe feeding he fell asleep and was losing weight. We both got thrush while this was all happening only making feeding more painful and difficult for both of us. At that point I had to come to the hard realisation that it was time to give my baby a bottle and just pump the milk for him as long as I could. I needed to give up on my own dream I had in my head and focus on his actual needs. It was hard and sad and I so desperately wanted the bond that I had with my first son again. I had to make peace and trust that he and I would have a different special bond that we would create in our own way. I began pumping exclusively. The pumping schedule ran our lives and put an immense amount of pressure on me. We had no one coming to help us since we had to be quarantined, and I also had my toddler to watch while my husband was back at work. Quickly I felt overwhelmed and like a mother who was just not doing well. I wasn’t paying attention to either of my kids, everyone got split attention particularly while I was attached to a pump. To make it easier, I upgraded to a hospital grade pump. The pain is pretty much down just a tad bit uncomfortable. I am nine months into my pumping journey and am so proud to have stuck through it all. I have been able to provide the same nutrients to my second son as I did my first. Such a success! I plan to continue until he is one or until my supply runs dry. So many people ask why I keep up with pumping since I can’t actually breastfeed him at all. I am sure to many I seem crazy, even to that girl I was 20 years ago who didn’t even want to breastfeed. I am proud to provide breast milk to my kids and know that it is something only I can make for them and it’s me who has made them grow and be strong.