Feeding Sarah

When Robert was reading one of my blog posts a few weeks ago and I was writing about formula feeding Sarah he asked if I had ever explained to my readers why we formula feed.  I thought surely I had, but then I looked back and realized I hadn't, and then I kind of remembered why I hadn't - it's been such a personal thing and it has felt like one of my biggest failures.  I know I don't have hundreds of readers, but maybe someone will stumble upon this post one day and be encouraged or at least find solidarity and comfort in knowing that someone else has walked this road before them.

Before Sarah was born I knew I wanted to breastfeed.  That's what good moms do, right?  Why would I want to waste money buying formula and bottles?  People who use formula are selfish and don't want to go through the physical pain and extreme time and dedication that it takes.  It's the natural thing to do, so it'll come naturally.  We took the baby classes.  I read the books.  My OBGYN said to stick with it for a month, and then things should be going steady.  I was all set!

And then I actually gave birth.  Due to the hemorrhaging, my body had gone into survival mode and was focused on keeping me alive, not on feeding a newborn.  Sarah had been given formula immediately and during her whole stay at the hospital so she was used to the taste and the ease of getting food as it was cup-fed to her.  Then she had a lip tie which made it impossible for her upper lip to lift up and flange out.  The lactation consultants said to just keep on pumping and feeding her with a cup with breast milk supplemented with formula.  If you ever want to make a new mom and dad reach the breaking point make the mom pump EIGHT TIMES A DAY FOR 30 MINUTES EACH TIME and make the dad feed a FLAILING INFANT WITH A MEDICINE CUP!  And then after a week of that have the dad go back to work and make the mom pump for 4 hours a day and feed her baby for 4 hours a day for a total of 8 hours of day focused on feeding your child.  Wow.  This wasn't going to last.  It was only tolerable when Robert was home because at least he could feed Sarah while I pumped, but when he was at home and I had to pump for 30 minutes while Sarah just laid helplessly wiggling around and screaming her head off it was just too much to handle.  I had to decide between continuing to pump and try to soothe Sarah by just talking to her (never worked) or just put off pumping while becoming extremely uncomfortable physically and getting even further behind on creating enough breast milk to satisfy Sarah's hunger.  I will say that the one turning point was when our friend Rachel told us to just use a bottle.  It was like a light bulb moment.  The lactation consultants wanted us to avoid a bottle so that there wasn't nipple confusion, but feeding Sarah with a medicine cup was a total mess and wasted so much.  Sarah took to the bottle like a champ and liked the first one we ever tried (Dr. Brown's).  I should also add that every time I pumped I was supposed to try to breast feed Sarah.  This resulted in her screaming, sweating, and farting from rage.  No sucking.  No eating.  The best case scenario is that she would just fall asleep, but of course we didn't want that to happen so the LC had us blowing on her, taking off her clothes, and wiping her with a a cold wash cloth.  That's super fun at 2:00am.

Then there was the extreme inconvenience.  I know that breastfeeding can be inconvenient.  I'm sure it can get hot feeling the need to cover up when it's 90 degrees outside.  You can't always find a chair so you have to do it standing up.  Other people can't feed your baby for you.  I know you breastfeeding moms could list a million other stinky parts about it, so I won't even pretend to know your pain, and I know that this list is not exhaustive.  For me, the inconvenience was choosing to either come home every two and a half hours to pump or  bringing my pump with me.  I remember saying no to a family who asked us out to lunch after church because I had to go home and pump.  Ugh.  We traveled to Mississippi while I was pumping.  We had to buy a converter for our car so I could pump in the car while Robert drove.  Super glamorous.

On my 25th birthday I reached my breaking point.  I had to leave my family to go sit in the bedroom and pump for 30 minutes at my own party.  That was enough.  The next day I called my LC to say I wanted to quit. I had given it more than a month like my OBGYN had said to do, and things hadn't gotten any easier at all.  The LC tried to get me to come in for yet another appointment, but I explained what I had been doing and that I had decided that this was the best decision for me.  I started crying when I asked how to quit.  Of course, her first response was, "Do you think you're struggling with postpartum depression?" I understand that she's probably trained to ask that any time a new mom cries, but I responded genuinely when I said, "No, I'm just very frustrated and tired of doing this."  She told me to reduce my number of pumping sessions by one every three days.  I was pumping eight times a day so that meant it would take me about one month to finally be finished.

Making that phone call to quit was very difficult for me.  I felt like I was giving up, like maybe I could have tried harder.  I knew that I would feel embarrassed and ashamed any time someone asked if Sarah was breastfed.  After all, don't most stay at home moms breastfeed?  I felt like I was admitting defeat and failing as a mom and woman, but honestly, the day I started pumping just seven times I felt relief.  Even just having 30 minutes more each day to do anything but pump was relieving, and every time I got to reduce my session by one I got more and more excited.  When I got down to two sessions a day it was a cake walk.  I pumped right when I woke up and right before bed.  It was at that point that I actually sort of started to enjoy being a mom!  I had felt like such a creep for not enjoying every second of pumping, doing laundry, changing diapers, and feeling like my body may never be the same.  I'll save it for another post, but nobody actually likes that stuff!  Nobody will ever say they'd rather recover from a traumatic birth than go on a beach vacation.  Duh.  But I feel like when you're a new mom you sometimes feel like you're supposed to like everything that comes with it.  Obviously you want to be grateful for your new baby, but you don't have to enjoy hooking yourself up to a machine for four hours a day while listening to your baby scream her lungs out.  Anyway, when I stopped pumping I could focus on Sarah more.  I could feed her when she was hungry and not have to try to distract her while I pumped.  I could leave our house for longer periods of time, knowing I could just make Sarah a bottle.  I didn't have to wash the pump parts.  I was human again!

I'll admit, it still stung a little when people would ask if I breastfeed Sarah.  I felt the need to explain the whole story that I just typed up for you, but now I just say no.  If someone is my real friend she already knows the story.  If someone is my real friend she knows that Sarah is fed, happy, healthy, and developing well so she doesn't fear for Sarah's well-being.

When I went to my six week follow up appointment with my OBGYN I was sad to admit that I had decided to stop pumping.  She said, "Amy, how could anyone expect you to breastfeed after what you went through?  I can't believe you stuck with it for as long as you did.  I would have quit after three days.  I fed my son formula, and he's a lawyer now.  My mom fed me evaporated milk, and I like to think that I turned out okay."  Those were exactly the words I needed to hear.  I started to tear up.  I had put more pressure on myself than my OBGYN who knows all the medical benefits of breastfeeding for the baby and mom.  Wow.

For all you moms who have toughed it out and breastfed your babies as long as you had hoped, way to go!  You have provided your baby with great nutrition, you have a special bond, and you'll have memories to last a lifetime.  But to you moms who have formula fed - whether it was after a long battle with pumping, or due to a previous surgery or health condition, or because you just didn't want to do it - you've also provided your baby with great nutrition, you have a special bond, and you'll have memories to last a lifetime.

I wanted to end this post with a special song that Robert and I wrote for Sarah:
Drinking bottles, it's my favorite.
It's a special time for me.
Drinking bottles, it's my favorite.
It gives me all the food I need.
I like to drink my bottles, morning, noon, and night.
I like to drink my bottles, to help me grow up right.