I read this picture today and came away realizing something unintended.
I DID feed my baby everything she needed, for 9 wonderful months. I'd never really thought about it that way before. Then I realized something even greater, my perspective has changed.
I remember the day I forced myself to go to the hospital's breastfeeding support group. It was FULL of mothers and babies, all strangers to me. When the time came for questions, I raised my hand and waited. When the leader smiled at me and beckoned for my question, my voice shook. I said something like, "My daughter is 3 weeks old today, and she sleeps for six hours at night. She also takes 4 hour naps during the day. Is that ok?" The woman shrugged saying she didn't know much about newborns (what!?) but a woman dressed in scrubs spoke up from the back, telling me to see her after the meeting. Turns out she was the IBCLC from the hospital and she managed the group. The lady up front was just leading a discussion on sleep training that day.
After the room cleared, and I had waited for many women to meet with the IBCLC, it was finally my turn. I was the last one, and the conversation is etched in my memory. I had just told her my daughter's birth weight and what it had dropped to in the
previous weeks. I was very hopeful my supply had increased at this point
and that my daughter had made up the weight loss. After weighing, she looked at me and confirmed the fear I had tried to ignore, the fear that everyone had reassured me was imagined. My daughter had lost more weight. She said I had to supplement, right away. She reassured me it would only be temporary and help my daughter to become alert until my milk supply increased. At her words, my heart shattered. The sanctity and health benefits I'd read about breast milk and breastfeeding were hindered when a mom introduced formula. Then, in reply to my earlier question about my daughter sleeping so long, she said that was because Annabelle was trying to conserve calories to survive. I felt my throat constrict and my face flush, as I did my best to hold back the tears that were already escaping down my cheeks. It was then that I really lost the beauty of becoming a mommy. I was struggling for the 3 weeks postpartum, but everyone [ family and friends that had breastfed] kept telling me to put baby to breast and it would work itself out. I halfheartedly convinced myself they were right, even though my instincts had said something was truly wrong. Now, I knew I had a big problem. Not an "oh, it will get better, just keep trying" kind of problem.
I was immediately ashamed, broken, and very alone. I didn't know anyone who had gone through this, and it took eight more weeks before I could stop crying every day. The IBCLC said I'd be able to make milk, just do x, y, and z. It isn't like me to take medicine or a lot of vitamin supplements, but I did (the line of pill bottles left over in my pantry are a fragment of the things I was told to take). I also wasn't planning to spend money renting a hospital grade pump, but I did. With little success, I spent another 8 weeks of doubting and questioning how I would do this for a year [my breastfeeding goal] because x,y, z had turned into abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.
The various lactation consultant visits, the weight checks and hospital visits, the poky sns tube that leaks and frustrates my already hungry infant, the lack of knowledge and conflicting advice from medical professionals, the expenses, going out to buy pricy and hard-to-find vitamins with my newborn in tow, the domperidone meds I hated putting in my body, the round the clock pumping, the types of pumps and sizes of flanges, the round the clock washing of pump parts and bottles in addition to nursing on demand, the weigh-feed-weighs after every feed, the hours and hours of research looking for an answer, the [unintended] hurtful comments from people I loved, searching for milk donors, praying whether to accept milk, SPILLING milk, the desperation and exhaustion..as you all know, it is a lot to endure. When I began to suspect IGT, I made an appointment with my midwife and nervously told her (I was very ashamed.). She dismissed it immediately (without checking my breasts), and prescribed oxytocin-- yet another thing "to try." I was also in a lot of pain the first month due to one of my tears during delivery. Because it was an artery and a deep tear, the blood loss and iron supplements caused health problems for another three months. That threw me for a loop as well.
I had come to feel that I would never fully heal from this time in my life. Physically, yes, but emotionally no. Two weeks ago I paid a highly recommended IBCLC to look at my breasts, and though I already knew it, she confirmed an obvious IGT diagnosis.
So when I read the quote on that picture above, and I suddenly realized I felt triumphant, I had to put my thoughts to paper.
At 24.5 weeks postpartum, "it" doesn't hurt as badly. It's still difficult, and yes, I only make 2.5 oz IN A DAY according to the scale I've rented, but guys-- it's different. I don't know what changed, but I've climbed the mountain and I have a bird's eye view... and the road ahead is really, really beautiful. I'm overcome with gratitude.
FOUR amazing women have committed to donating milk for Annie over the last 6 months, and I've been so fortunate to never run out. Before this, I never even knew about milk sharing nor could have thought I'd trust these women the way I do. But beyond that, I get to be the mother of Annabelle Grace LaGravinese.
She is a beautiful treasure. Because of everything the two of us endured, I have an unbreakable bond with my daughter. Nothing can defeat us. We both know I will never, ever give up on her. "It" really doesn't matter anymore, and in realizing that, all the power, confidence, and faith I had been questioning came rushing in. The esteemed badge of "exclusively breastfeeding" doesn't sting now. Now the thought of mothers breastfeeding their children while I struggle with a lact-aid and a daughter who wants to squeeze the milk out of the bag, just makes me smile a knowing, calm smile. This has been my story of becoming a mother, and it's unique. Exclusively breastfeeding is an incredible gift, and I pray that one day I will experience it. I am a believer that God is wholly good, and I trust Him with my life and motherhood; however, in this moment, I cherish the lact-aid because I get to nurse my daughter to her heart's content.
Our traumatic beginning is healing despite things not being the way I, and my many family and friends, had prayed. As we approach 6 months of breastfeeding next week, it's funny how this bodily weakness doesn't carry the weight and power over me that it used to. I am a humbler person than I was 6 months ago, and I have gained a strength that can't be shaken. I'm also at peace. Thank you "IGT and Low Milk Supply Support Group" for being incredibly encouraging and supportive no matter what choices we make or what happens to our milk supply.
From the bird's eye view, I see that it really wasn't about breastfeeding. It was about me overcoming adversity as a daughter of the most high God, and as a mother of the most precious daughter. Overcoming adversity, the time it takes and the path one follows, is different for every one of us. So, I dedicate this blog to each of you women in the world that is fighting to give their child what they believe is best. The IGT and Low Milk Supply Support Group is an incredible extended family. It's ironic that I was once embarrassed to join this group on Facebook because I thought others would see and judge me. Now I am so proud to be a part of it.
Thank you admins for maintaining the low milk supply group for people like me.
Love to you all, and a warm hug from one mom to another.
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