Waiting for a leak

I wrote this note on facebook after the Newsweek breastfeeding cover.



Lately there has been so much hoopla in the media about breast feeding. It weighs on my mind.
I read articles about prolonged breast feeding & how good it is for everyone involved. I read about how overall the medical field doesn't support breast feeding the way it should. I read about moms judging other moms for their choices. I read about society judging moms.
I end up feeling judged.
What a lot of those articles describe leave me feeling like a breast feeding failure. And I am not.
It makes me wonder about the well-intentioned experts encouraging this judgement.
Before becoming a mother, I had a lot of plans & ideas.
On the top of my list was breast feeding. Exclusively. For at least a year.
I did everything I was supposed to. I had a healthy pregnancy, an unmedicated birth, my precious newborn latched minutes after being born. All was going according to my birth plan. I nursed her as often as she wanted. I kept her close to me. I wouldn't let her go to the hospital nursery (I had heard all the horror stories about pacifiers and formula and evil nursery nurses). I didn't accept the free formula or accompanying diaper bag. It was a beautiful thing.
I went home. I nursed her and nursed her and nursed her. I drank plenty of water. I ate well. I took gentle walks outside. I was the picture of happiness.
She latched on like a champ, was happy to be there. And I couldn't have been happier to have her there. I was so proud.
I read & re-read my LaLeche League breast feeding book.
My breasts didn't get heavy and full. I could hand express and see the colostrum had changed to milk. I waited for the heaviness, the aching full breasts.
My patient baby kept on suckling.
At her first pediatrician check, her weight dropped. My pediatrician encouraged me to keep breast feeding. She watched baby latch & told me we were a beautiful nursing pair. A weight drop could be expected. We would re-check in a few days.
Her weight didn't pick up. My pediatrician referred us to the practice's lactation consultant. Told us to keep breast feeding, and let the expert evaluate her latch.
The expert worked to tweak our latch & then did a pre and post feed weight check. No wonder those breasts weren't aching and leaking, they were practically empty. Not empty, but practically. Don't despair, she reassured me, you can pump and try some herbals to increase your supply.
So I pumped dutifully after each feeding. If I wasn't offering my baby my nearly empty breasts they were hooked to a pump.
I took fenugreek around the clock and reeked of maple syrup.
I read & re-read my breast feeding books. I ordered more. I read those too.
My supply increased, minimally. Baby's weight did not increase, however.
Time for the big guns, pharmaceuticals. I went to my midwife begging for a prescription for domperidone. I acknowledged the off-label use, shelled out big bucks for this non-covered compounded medication & waited for leaky breasts.
No leaks.
As a last resort, it was rock bottom, my lactation consultant suggested supplementation. I cried. I cry now thinking about it. I did not want to give up breast feeding.
In a last effort to preserve breastfeeding, I taped a feeding tube to my own breast & supplemented via syringe with formula. It leaked all over my poochy postpartum belly. The smell was so strong, so unpleasant, so unnatural. I was leaking. Formula.
I did this day & night for more than a week. I jokingly talked about feeding her the poison supplements, through streams of tears.
Eventually, I took a leap of faith. I offered her supplement with a bottle. I was sure once she had the bottle our breast feeding would be a thing of the past. But I was wrong. She accepted both.
She gained weight. She smiled. She is now nearly two and as near to perfect as I can imagine.
My amazing body failed me. It failed her. This completely natural thing didn't happen.
Since having my first child, I have been diagnosed with hypoplastic breast syndrome -- this is when a woman has insufficient breast tissue “milk producing cells” inside her breasts, causing her to either have no milk at all or a very low milk supply. This condition is also called hypoplasia, tubular breast syndrome or tuberous breast. (this definition is from the La Leche League breast feeding book -- Make More Milk)
I did things a little differently with my second baby. I knew more. I trusted me more. I cried a little less when my breasts didn't reach their full potential. Like his sister, he too accepted both formula & the breast. Like his sister, he gained weight & smiled. And at seven months is now as near to perfect as his sister.
I needed to write this to remember why I am proud of my breast feeding story.
I needed to share it with you, so that we can all remember that each story is different. And the numbers and statistics don't have faces -- but they all have a story.