Breastfeeding

Well I have promised and everyone else has their breast-feeding story so here is ours. 

This time 'ours' refers to all three of us. 

Me - obviously, because they are my breasts and it's me that gets up in the middle of the night, wears the nursing bras and sensible access-all-areas tops and deals with leaking all the time!

Luke, as he is the one doing the latching on and all the weight gain (well most of the weight gain, Mummy gets to do some of that too!) 

And, my husband, because he has relinquished his ownership of my boobs, dealt with sharing a bed with a leaking woman, been tolerant of a less than organised household and supportive of the time needed for Luke and I to establish our breast-feeding relationship.

My reasons for wanting to breast-feed were both simple and complex. 

Simple - it's cheap, convenient, healthy for both of us and I'm too lazy to bottle-feed!

Complex - following fertility treatment and then induction due to pre-eclampsia, I wanted to do something organic and natural to pay Luke back. 

Luke's conception involved twenty-first century technology and far too many helpers. It still seems unfair that although he was made with love, he wasn't made from love. 

Luke's birth was equally clinical. My blood pressure shot up at 40 weeks and I was admitted in a hurry, monitored for days then induced. Labour started with the suppository thingies used to 'ripen the cervix' and was all over in three hours. The pain was worse than I had ever imagined. Not helped by my husband not being there until the end. We had both been reassured that nothing would happen and husbands in Hong Kong have to leave unless their wives are in active labour.  So I missed the excitement of the is it/isn't it, the rush to the hospital, the natural delivery I had trained for and dreamed of. Instead, it was a lonely, painful progression to five centimetres, a rush to the delivery suite, a hurriedly placed epidural (which only worked on the left side - but hey 50% agony is better than 100%), and then HUGE episiotomy as Luke was distressed. 

Although he was FINE following the excellent work of the obstetric resident, the paediatric resident whisked him away after an initial examination. I literally kissed his forehead and he was gone. I knew they weren't too worried - they did a frickin' hip check in the resuscitaire. I'm still annoyed with myself that I didn't put my foot down then. I consented to a couple of hours of observation; this turned into 48 hours in NICU with IV antibiotics, chest X-rays and cultures - all without any concept of informed consent!

There was literally blood on the walls and the poor resident doctor kept checking on me while prescribing more syntocin. 

((for the medical nerds - my admission Hb 13g/L, at discharge 8.5g/L!))

I had taken two breast-feeding classes; La Leche League and the Queen Mary Hospital (an university hospital in Hong Kong). I knew the importance of early latch-on, skin-to-skin time etc. But Luke was whisked off to neonatal care and I was left empty and deflated - both figuratively and literally.

Luke was born just after 330am - - - I saw him for the first time after 10am. A kind paediatric nurse helped him latch on the first time - he was a natural. Thank God!  It is a miracle that Luke managed it. I sure as hell didn't know what I was doing - class or no class! 

Although QMH is a breast-feeding friendly hospital, everything was done wrong. The nurses supplemented with formula within the first two hours he was in the unit. As Luke was in the neonate unit for 48 hours, I had to 'pop-up' for feeding. The nurses tried to make it as 'on demand' as possible but the poor guy missed out if there was a ward round, too many other patients, it was his bath time etc.  The strict visiting hours 3-8pm, parents only, are not conducive to early bonding - so I cheated! I know the nurses were complicit with me sneaking Luke to the breast-feeding room just to hold him.

By the time we took Luke home, 2.5 days after his birth, I had never seen him naked, bathed him or slept with him beside me. I was terrified. He shouldn't have been a breast-fed baby - somehow it worked.

Anyway, to cut a long story short-ish.....

Luke had days and nights confused.

Luke was a slow feeder - up to an hour a feed.

Luke was a comfort nurser.

BUT my nipples never hurt - I know women all over the world will doubt this statement - but despite flat/differently shaped nipples we never had latch or pain issues. 

My advice to new breast-feeders - 

1. Take a class - at least I had the basics in my head

2. Watch somebody else breast-feed - a good latch involves a lot of boob in the baby's mouth

3. Do nothing else for the first 2-3 weeks

4. SLEEP whenever you can - get someone to come over and watch the baby while he/she sleeps so you can shut your eyes! THANKS MUM!

5. Get a tame La Leche League leader or lactation consultant now! You will have questions/panics and they will make you feel better straight away. And I quote "If it doesn't hurt and the baby is gaining weight and having wet nappies, you're doing it right."

6. Above all DO NOT compare yourself with everyone else. Five minutes a side might happen at 6 months NOT at 6 weeks!

Anyway, so we're still breast-feeding with no end in sight. It has worked out well for us. 

I am VERY cognisant of the pressures for and against breast-feeding depending on the culture in which you live. There are many reasons why women choose to or not to breast-feed. They are none of my or anyone else's business!! If the babies are fed and happy that is all that really matters.