Breastfeeding

I have been meaning to write about this subject for many months now, well, ever since I weaned Genevieve back in March.  It is a personal topic, in a way, but many of you know of my challenges and triumphs.  I wanted, for my own sake, to write about my experience starting at the very beginning (it's a very good place to start).

Before Genevieve was born, I knew that I wanted to breastfeed.  I didn't put a specific amount of time on how long I wanted to breastfeed, but I thought a year sounded good.  I remember thinking in the first few days about how easy it was.  Things seemed to be going fairly well, and the nurses and lactation consultant at the hospital were helpful in those early days (except for one nurse, but we won't get into that here).  Then I noticed that G was "tongue tied". This is when the frenulum under the tongue either attaches too tightly or too close to the tip of the tongue.  In G's case, it was attached to the very tip of her tongue, making it impossible for her tongue to stick out past her gums.  The tongue is used to help with suction and proper breastfeeding, so I was worried this would cause issues.  The hospital pediatrician said not to worry about it, so I thought I'd give it a little bit of time.  The second week of nursing was pretty painful, and by the third week I was experiencing milk blisters and a great deal of pain.  I cried every single time Genevieve latched, and she was nursing around every hour.

Tongue Tie

When she was around 3 weeks old, we saw an ENT who snipped the frenulum a bit to release the tie.  After about five or six days, Genevieve was nursing like a champ!  Her latch wasn't fantastic, but she was eating much better.  There was also a decrease in pain for me.  Yay!  Maybe I would make it to a year after all. By the six week mark, we were both pretty good at the breastfeeding thing.

It was around this time that we noticed Genevieve was very gassy and fussy.  She also didn't sleep much. We would rock her and bounce her for 40 minutes for her to only sleep 30 minutes.  She would wake up screaming and tooting.  We knew something wasn't right, but we didn't know what.  She had silent reflux and unusual stools that sometimes included mucous and blood.  Long story short, this was the beginning of us figuring out her multiple food allergies.  It was a long journey of eliminating and reintroducing foods to note reactions.  I lost a ton of weight (bonus) but constantly worried that I would lose my milk supply and wouldn't be able to continue the nursing relationship we had both grown to love.  Nursing was a comfort for Genevieve, and it was something I enjoyed providing for her.  It was amazing to  have nourished her with my body for so long, and I was scared and determined not to lose this ability.  Allergy testing helped us to further pinpoint her allergens, and I just continued to avoid them for Genevieve's sake.  

Once Genevieve was around 15 months old, she nursed much less frequently.  She would nurse first thing in the morning, before nap, after nap, and after bed consistently.  She also drove me crazy with her 1-3 night wake ups wanting to nurse, but I wasn't sure how to break this habit.  She wanted to nurse if she got hurt or scared, and occasionally, she'd want a little snack during the day at some point.  My supply always remained just enough for what Genevieve needed.  I thanked God every day for allowing my body to produce despite my limited diet (no nuts, wheat, soy, dairy, eggs, cocoa, tomatoes, or oats).

Nursing before a nap at the Oregon Zoo

By the time Genevieve was 20 months old, I decided the night nursing had to end.  I talked to G about it, and my mother in law sent me two great books on the topic.  Genevieve liked Sally Weans from Night Nursing much better than Nursies When the Sun Shines.  In fact, she took to Sally so well, that I started night weaning her before I initially planned.  By 22 months, or thereabouts, Genevieve was night weaned. We were down to three nursing sessions a day - morning, before nap, and before bedtime.

At this time, I found out I was expecting baby #2, and my supply started to dip.  I was already producing more on one side than the other, but now one side was almost completely dry.  Genevieve would nurse only before bed now and just on one side.  I knew full weaning was approaching quickly, and to be honest, I think we were both ready.  I head been preparing her for no more mama milk, and I knew she understood. Nothing could have prepared me for how I would feel the first night I didn't breastfeed her.

It was the end of March; Genevieve was almost 25 months old.  I was getting her ready for bed when I reminded her that there would be no more mama milky that night.  I told her the milk was all gone but that was okay because she was a big girl now.  She fussed a bit and cried out "Just one side!  Just the one side!"  I said, "No, honey, the milk is all gone.  There isn't anymore even from the one side."  She laid there as I changed her diaper.  She didn't say anything. She didn't yell or cry out, but tears streamed down her cheeks.  It was as if she were mourning the loss of something so special to her, and I felt my heart break into a million pieces, even though I knew this had to happen eventually.

I held Genevieve and rocked her to sleep that night.  As she drifted off, tears streamed down my cheeks.  It was such a bittersweet moment and one that still brings tears to my eyes.

Genevieve feeds her baby dolls "mama milk" and talks about babies drinking mama milk.  When babies cry, she sometimes says, "Aw, he needs mama milky."  It makes me proud that she equates mama milk not only with nourishment but with feeling good and comforted.  We have talked about how the new baby will drink mama milk (God willing), and she has asked if she can have some too.  I tell her no, that it's only for babies.  There was a day several weeks back that Genevieve was having a complete and utter meltdown, and nothing I did comforted her in any way.  She burst out in tears saying, "I need milky to make me feel better!"  I told her that I didn't have any milk for her, but I could hold her and rock her.  It was enough, but I was really surprised about her request for milk.  I am surprised that she remembered it giving her comfort.

I am looking forward to breastfeeding my next, and final baby, and I pray that my body is able to provide the same nourishment and comfort for her.  I know weaning my last baby will be even more bittersweet.