For those who don't know me personally, you may not be aware of my chosen career. I am a Registered Dietitian who has spent most of my career doing work in international nutrition. Part of your training as a dietitian is about breastfeeding. I learned anatomy/physiology as well as techniques for nursing, ways to promote breastfeeding, and why it is important for both the mom and baby. My first job out of under-grad was working for the Federal supplemental program for Women, Infants, and Children--often called WIC. I am a HUGE WIC fan and view it as one of the Federal governments major successes. Part of that job was supporting and promoting breastfeeding.
As I moved my career abroad, breastfeeding took a larger role. There are numerous resources that can tell you why breastfeeding is important. That is not the purpose of this post, except to say I truly believe that breastmilk is the best option for a baby. Early initiation (within one hour of birth) and exclusive breastfeeding for 6 months can not only saves lives, but save the economies of countries millions of dollars.
When I was pregnant with my first child, I was VERY stressed about being able to breastfeed. I warned my two good friends, both with 4 children successfully breastfed even through all the problems, that they were to be on call 24/7. They were my personal lactation consultants. On top of the normal new mom fears, I have a family history to worry about. Neither of my sisters produced breastmilk, most of my female cousins on my mom's side had issues, and my mother, her mother, her mother, etc A long line of women who faced issues by either not producing ANY milk or could never sustain breastmilk or produce enough to exclusively feed. Before any (what I call) breastfeeding Nazi's jump on my back claiming that they just were latching improperly or whatever, despite being vehement in my belief that breast is best, I also recognize that millions of women face challenges of not producing enough milk. Sometimes it is due to latching issues, not offering the breast often enough, but there are also NUMEROUS health problems the mother can have and a few the child can have that inhibit milk. Personally, in my maternal family genealogy--we have hypothyroidism. I was diagnosed in grad school. I take synthetic thyroid hormones everyday. Other issues include medications that are needed for varying chronic health issues, insufficient glandular development in the breast, previous breast health concerns, hormonal imbalances, diabetes and pre-diabetes, etc.
With all this on my mind, I began my breastfeeding journey. I was able to produce FAR MORE MILK then my sisters or mother, but not anywhere near normal. The only major issue I faced was a yeast infection on my breasts that lasted almost 6 weeks before we were able to kick it in the butt. I tried the teas and supplements for increasing milk with no success. I had to start supplementing with formula by the end of the first month. Despite all those issues, and the fact that I had to return to work at 2 months (another MAJOR contributor to low-milk supply as pumping NEVER produces as much milk as nursing), breastfeeding my son was more amazing then anyone could have ever described to me.
It's something you CAN NOT describe. I wish I could put it in words. I wish I was an amazing wordsmith and could tell you what it is like. All I can say is my favorite memories from my son's first year were when I was nursing him. There is something both empowering and enduring about providing your child with all the nutrients they need. It is SO convenient and easy to nurse your child (not at first, but once you both get the hang of it). I loved that just whipping out my breast solved all my sons problems in one second. I was the answer to his woes, no matter the problem. I nursed him in public and private. I was never once subjected to harassment for nursing him out and about, but I had all my responses ready if someone were to say something. I even got to travel with my son to Ethiopia for work and nurse him there, at 3 different airports, and of course on planes. I loved it.
I also ended up doing something I swore I would NEVER do; I co-slept with my son. Once I had mastered the art of lying down and nursing, putting my son back in his crib became too much effort. My husband and I, though nervous at first, soon fell in love with co-sleeping. To this day, we both love sleeping with my son. He is now in his own bed, a painful process, but nights he has night terrors or when he is sick he often joins us and we love it (even though he takes up FAR more bed now and likes to have his feet on his dad and a hand or two on me all night).
Pumping was a sort of joke. My work provided a wonderful pumping room, where you sat with other women. Though some women didn't like this, for me it was great. I learned a lot from these women and got to have a break 2 to 3 times a day. The joke was the quantity of milk I could pump. Any of the ladies I pumped with can testify, it was meager. 15 minutes of pumping would yield 2 ounces at best on each side. Thought it was disheartening to watch other women pump 8 to 10 ounces in 5 minutes, I kept at it. I even laughed about it. It was quite funny. Me sitting there, drop drop drop, and another woman sitting there gushing until her bottle was full and fumbling to attach a new one and not spill it all over. But, those ounces were very precious to me--liquid gold. So I kept at it.
I ended up stopping nursing long before I wanted to, when my son was 10 months. I got a HORRIBLE sinus infection and my son had a cold. He didn't want to nurse, and as he had been getting a bottle at day-care including formula to fill in for my pathetic amounts of breastmilk I produced, he preferred to drink from that with his stuffy nose. By the time both of us were better, my milk was gone. It was really really hard. But, I knew I had done my best.
All of this is building up to pregnancy number two. When we found out I was pregnant truly my first thought was, "I get to breastfeed again!!" I was so excited to have a second go. I would be more confident this round and not call my dear dear friends in panic at each and every moment those first few weeks. It was going to be amazing. I was going to breastfeed for as long as this baby let me. I thought about it almost daily.
Then--our world came crashing down. At 17 weeks everything changed when I was told I had breast cancer. My oncologist was clear from the get go, I would not be able to nurse the baby. They know for sure that chemotherapy crosses into the breastmilk and they don't know how long it takes to get out of your system. Some oncologists say you can breastfeed for a short bit before you start chemo again, but she doesn't feel safe about it. I get it--the last thing I want to give a precious and vulnerable newborn is chemotherapy. But, of everything going on in my life--the thought that I can not nurse my son is by far the hardest thing I have had to face. As my son is not here yet, I don't think I have yet truly faced it. I don't cry as much when I think about it now, but I know when he is born, it will be very very hard. I keep asking myself, how do you hold a baby and not breastfeed them? How, sitting there with milk in my breasts, can I do it? I know it is going to be incredibly difficult.
I feel like this little boy is getting the short of end of the stick in so many things, how can I deny him this as well? This little guy has had to endure an unhealthy amount of stress hormones, 6 rounds of chemotherapy, and being born early via a c-section. All of these are proven to have a negative impact on the growth and health of a fetus. I feel like me not being able to breastfeed him is just adding to this list. One more strike against him before his life really gets started. He is innocent in all of this--in fact he is my hero. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, we wouldn't have found the cancer for probably quite some time. Possibly it would have been found too late, much too late. So, in reality I owe this little boy my life--but instead of repaying him I am giving him an incredibly difficult start to life.
All of these things have been running around in my brain since they day we learned about the cancer. And, this coming Monday--when this little boy joins our family, all of this will come to a head. Not only will I have all the crazy emotions you experience post-delivery, but I will have this running around my head. I know, thinking about it, feeling guilty about it solves nothing. I know millions of babies are raised on formula and perfectly healthy. I know all of this logically, but emotionally this will be one of the hardest parts of all of this.
However, there is hope. I am happy to say I have two dear friends who have had babies in the last few months. Both have agreed to pump breastmilk for me. It won't be 100% of his diet, but every drop will make a difference. This selfless and generous action in my mind is is impossible to compensate. How do you repay women for giving your child something as powerful and necessary as the perfect food? You can't.
As I moved my career abroad, breastfeeding took a larger role. There are numerous resources that can tell you why breastfeeding is important. That is not the purpose of this post, except to say I truly believe that breastmilk is the best option for a baby. Early initiation (within one hour of birth) and exclusive breastfeeding for 6 months can not only saves lives, but save the economies of countries millions of dollars.
When I was pregnant with my first child, I was VERY stressed about being able to breastfeed. I warned my two good friends, both with 4 children successfully breastfed even through all the problems, that they were to be on call 24/7. They were my personal lactation consultants. On top of the normal new mom fears, I have a family history to worry about. Neither of my sisters produced breastmilk, most of my female cousins on my mom's side had issues, and my mother, her mother, her mother, etc A long line of women who faced issues by either not producing ANY milk or could never sustain breastmilk or produce enough to exclusively feed. Before any (what I call) breastfeeding Nazi's jump on my back claiming that they just were latching improperly or whatever, despite being vehement in my belief that breast is best, I also recognize that millions of women face challenges of not producing enough milk. Sometimes it is due to latching issues, not offering the breast often enough, but there are also NUMEROUS health problems the mother can have and a few the child can have that inhibit milk. Personally, in my maternal family genealogy--we have hypothyroidism. I was diagnosed in grad school. I take synthetic thyroid hormones everyday. Other issues include medications that are needed for varying chronic health issues, insufficient glandular development in the breast, previous breast health concerns, hormonal imbalances, diabetes and pre-diabetes, etc.
With all this on my mind, I began my breastfeeding journey. I was able to produce FAR MORE MILK then my sisters or mother, but not anywhere near normal. The only major issue I faced was a yeast infection on my breasts that lasted almost 6 weeks before we were able to kick it in the butt. I tried the teas and supplements for increasing milk with no success. I had to start supplementing with formula by the end of the first month. Despite all those issues, and the fact that I had to return to work at 2 months (another MAJOR contributor to low-milk supply as pumping NEVER produces as much milk as nursing), breastfeeding my son was more amazing then anyone could have ever described to me.
It's something you CAN NOT describe. I wish I could put it in words. I wish I was an amazing wordsmith and could tell you what it is like. All I can say is my favorite memories from my son's first year were when I was nursing him. There is something both empowering and enduring about providing your child with all the nutrients they need. It is SO convenient and easy to nurse your child (not at first, but once you both get the hang of it). I loved that just whipping out my breast solved all my sons problems in one second. I was the answer to his woes, no matter the problem. I nursed him in public and private. I was never once subjected to harassment for nursing him out and about, but I had all my responses ready if someone were to say something. I even got to travel with my son to Ethiopia for work and nurse him there, at 3 different airports, and of course on planes. I loved it.
I also ended up doing something I swore I would NEVER do; I co-slept with my son. Once I had mastered the art of lying down and nursing, putting my son back in his crib became too much effort. My husband and I, though nervous at first, soon fell in love with co-sleeping. To this day, we both love sleeping with my son. He is now in his own bed, a painful process, but nights he has night terrors or when he is sick he often joins us and we love it (even though he takes up FAR more bed now and likes to have his feet on his dad and a hand or two on me all night).
Pumping was a sort of joke. My work provided a wonderful pumping room, where you sat with other women. Though some women didn't like this, for me it was great. I learned a lot from these women and got to have a break 2 to 3 times a day. The joke was the quantity of milk I could pump. Any of the ladies I pumped with can testify, it was meager. 15 minutes of pumping would yield 2 ounces at best on each side. Thought it was disheartening to watch other women pump 8 to 10 ounces in 5 minutes, I kept at it. I even laughed about it. It was quite funny. Me sitting there, drop drop drop, and another woman sitting there gushing until her bottle was full and fumbling to attach a new one and not spill it all over. But, those ounces were very precious to me--liquid gold. So I kept at it.
I ended up stopping nursing long before I wanted to, when my son was 10 months. I got a HORRIBLE sinus infection and my son had a cold. He didn't want to nurse, and as he had been getting a bottle at day-care including formula to fill in for my pathetic amounts of breastmilk I produced, he preferred to drink from that with his stuffy nose. By the time both of us were better, my milk was gone. It was really really hard. But, I knew I had done my best.
All of this is building up to pregnancy number two. When we found out I was pregnant truly my first thought was, "I get to breastfeed again!!" I was so excited to have a second go. I would be more confident this round and not call my dear dear friends in panic at each and every moment those first few weeks. It was going to be amazing. I was going to breastfeed for as long as this baby let me. I thought about it almost daily.
Then--our world came crashing down. At 17 weeks everything changed when I was told I had breast cancer. My oncologist was clear from the get go, I would not be able to nurse the baby. They know for sure that chemotherapy crosses into the breastmilk and they don't know how long it takes to get out of your system. Some oncologists say you can breastfeed for a short bit before you start chemo again, but she doesn't feel safe about it. I get it--the last thing I want to give a precious and vulnerable newborn is chemotherapy. But, of everything going on in my life--the thought that I can not nurse my son is by far the hardest thing I have had to face. As my son is not here yet, I don't think I have yet truly faced it. I don't cry as much when I think about it now, but I know when he is born, it will be very very hard. I keep asking myself, how do you hold a baby and not breastfeed them? How, sitting there with milk in my breasts, can I do it? I know it is going to be incredibly difficult.
I feel like this little boy is getting the short of end of the stick in so many things, how can I deny him this as well? This little guy has had to endure an unhealthy amount of stress hormones, 6 rounds of chemotherapy, and being born early via a c-section. All of these are proven to have a negative impact on the growth and health of a fetus. I feel like me not being able to breastfeed him is just adding to this list. One more strike against him before his life really gets started. He is innocent in all of this--in fact he is my hero. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, we wouldn't have found the cancer for probably quite some time. Possibly it would have been found too late, much too late. So, in reality I owe this little boy my life--but instead of repaying him I am giving him an incredibly difficult start to life.
All of these things have been running around in my brain since they day we learned about the cancer. And, this coming Monday--when this little boy joins our family, all of this will come to a head. Not only will I have all the crazy emotions you experience post-delivery, but I will have this running around my head. I know, thinking about it, feeling guilty about it solves nothing. I know millions of babies are raised on formula and perfectly healthy. I know all of this logically, but emotionally this will be one of the hardest parts of all of this.
However, there is hope. I am happy to say I have two dear friends who have had babies in the last few months. Both have agreed to pump breastmilk for me. It won't be 100% of his diet, but every drop will make a difference. This selfless and generous action in my mind is is impossible to compensate. How do you repay women for giving your child something as powerful and necessary as the perfect food? You can't.
No comments:
Post a Comment