Category Archives: breastfeeding

Donor Milk- Providing the Best Start for Preemies

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Motherhood is a whirlwind- a busy bundle of organized chaos that gives way to smiles, hugs, laughter and tears.   Oftentimes I have to remind myself to slow down and drink in the moments, and when I do I’m always struck by how profoundly lucky I truly am.

I’m lucky that I have such an inquisitive and active child.  I’m lucky my desired parenting style is so compatible with my tiny toddler’s personality.  I’m lucky that I’ve had the chance to experience Baby N’s development and milestones first hand.  But, above all else, I’m profoundly lucky that stars aligned, fate smiled on me, and I gave birth to a healthy, (beyond) full term baby a year and a half ago.

For two weeks we’ve shared real stories of how breastfeeding has influenced moms and babies in vastly different ways, but there is one perspective yet to be shared that stands far from my idealized, lucky world- that of the tiny, vulnerable lives most in need of the life saving power of human milk… the premature and hospitalized infants.

Born before many of their mothers are able to establish and sustain a milk supply, these little heroes face the immediate risk of developing necrotizing enterocolitis, a disease that attacks and destroys the intestinal system.  Human milk not only provides these babies with the ideal nutrition to help them thrive, it also helps to repair their intestines should they become infected.

Thankfully, Mother’s Milk Bank in Austin (part of a system of 12 such banks within the Human Milk Banking Association of North America) provides pasteurized human milk for the babies most in need from milk donated by mothers who meet the donation qualifications.

Donor milk is analyzed for fat, lactose, and protein content after which an ideal “cocktail” of human milk is created to meet the specifications requested by neonatologists for their premature patients.  The Milk Bank is even able to provide for a very limited number of outpatient cases in which a baby or child would be unable to be discharged from the hospital but for the ideal nutrition provided in donor milk.  In this way, donor milk also helps reduce insurance and medical expenditures for families who are already facing undue stress due to health challenges.

Unfortunately, because one in eight babies is born prematurely, milk banks are currently unable to meet the demand for human milk for babies who ideally would be considered high-priority and in dire need of the life saving properties of donor milk.  Donors with infants less than one year of age are needed nation wide to ensure that no baby in need be denied access to breastmilk.

Touring Mothers Milk Bank in Austin (while breastfeeding Baby N in her carrier) was one of those motherhood moments where I stopped to take it all in,…to reflect on just how ideal my experience has been, and to appreciate all that can be done for moms and babies that face a situation that is less than ideal.  I can thank my lucky stars that there are places like Mothers Milk Bank working to ensure that every baby gets the healthiest start possible- and I can give back for all of my good fortune by supporting them in their efforts.

To donate milk, please contact Mothers Milk Bank in Austin or your nearest HMBANA site- they will not seek to profit from your donation of breastmilk.

Real Moms Relate: Making Breastfeeding Work for You

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In my quieter, child-free days I had spent some blissful time meditating on the words of Rumi… “There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the earth.”

Ahhh… beautiful, pensive, and shockingly apt parenting advice.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, for every decision I now consider as a mama there are a thousands ways to progress forward. A thousand valid, worthwhile, and favorable paths to the end destination

There is no one right way to raise a child. And for any one decision we may backtrack, or u-turn, or take a fork, or even cut our own path.

Because for every mother who decides to breastfeed, there is an entirely different breastfeeding story, we continue sharing the experiences of some of our fabulous (outspoken) mama friends.

And for good measure I thought I’d share part of my story as well.

My Story- Nursing in Public

Thank you to Jessica from Bumps to Babies for the lovely photo of Baby N

I always knew I would be a breastfeeding mama.  I’ve got enough hippie in me to have never questioned this decision, but I also had enough novice mama in me to have never really considered what being an exclusive breastfeeder means socially.  Bottom line?  It means nursing in public.

To be perfectly honest, in my eighteenth month of breastfeeding I had even forgotten what it felt like to be consciously aware that I nurse in public until it was brought to my attention in a very tender way by another mother this weekend.

Sunday morning I joined some of our Bump Club mamas for a fitness class at lululemon and Baby N joined me as is our custom on Sunday mornings since that’s when Daddy takes his long runs.  As an attachment parent, most of my friends and acquaintances have met me with Baby N either on my hip, at my breast, or running through my legs so most people simply see her as an extension on my presence.

Because N is always with me, it is second nature for me to nurse if needed during a workout while doing squats or in downward dog.  It isn’t something I think about.  It isn’t something that most people who are around N and I frequently think about.

As class wrapped up and I chatted with some new guests, one of the ladies I had just met told me how cool she thought it was that I was still breastfeeding upon request from my toddler outside of the home.  She said it wasn’t something people frequently see demonstrated in an intuitive and natural way.

For the first time in a long time, this made me cognizant of my public breastfeeding relationship with my little girl.  Not in a bad way; in a way that brought to mind what it had taken to get to the point that I was unconsciously conscious of my nursing in public.

The early days of exclusive breastfeeding can be bumpy as you learn to navigate a brand new skill- one that you will very soon undertake with expert level execution and very little thought or effort, yet seems so daunting during it’s short sharp learning curve.

You are balancing a baby, trying to accomplish small tasks here and there, recalling which side you nursed on last, and- if you’re lucky- squeezing in a bathroom trip at least once a day when you can set the baby down or pass her off to a second set of hands momentarily.  And then one day you wake up and you are nursing while folding and sorting clothes and chatting with your mother to tell her about your most recent diaper saga- You are a pro! (You can even manage a bathroom trip WHILE nursing!)

And then you leave the house… and you have to figure out the nursing cover while you revert back to bumbling over doing multiple things while feeding our child.  Everything seems so clumsy and foreign the first time you leave your comfort zone, but- just like at home- you quickly adapt and master the challenge.

I quickly learned that Baby N HATED nursing covers with a passion and fury I thought only existed in soccer hooligans when their club is beaten by a rival.  Because of our nursing cover avoidance, I’ve been scowled at and clucked at by the disapproving… and lauded by supporters.  I quickly learned that simply not making eye contact goes a long way to communicate your disinterest in public approval ratings for the way you’ve decided to feed your child.  And I’m totally not above high-fiving a nursing advocate mid-feeding.

I’ve nursed N on airplanes, in the grocery store, and on the Skydeck of the Willis Tower… and frequently in downward dog.

My dad still leaves the room if I’m nursing, my brother stands with his back to me to create a human shield if he’s around, and my husband adjusts the Ergo hood if we’re in the grocery store to provide a bit more privacy.  They do these things not because they are ashamed or embarrassed, but because they want to protect and guard me and the sanctity of the special relationship I share with my growing nursling.  They do these things because they are outwardly aware of something that had become second nature to me.  They realize the same thing another mama brought to my attention on Sunday; namely, that extended nursing is beautiful, and healthy, and really cool.

And I’m okay sharing that in public.

To read more about what breastfeeding means to me, check out one of my recent blogs.

Jennifer’s Story- Magic Boob Juice

Four months into this whole breastfeeding thing, my husband and I easily joke about all that goes with it. No matter what’s wrong with our son, giving him a little magic boob juice straight from the tap, and all becomes right with his world.

I prefer to feed him with the aid of a My Brest Friend pillow while sitting in bed, but I’m comfortable doing it anywhere–at the dining room table, in the backseat of the car (while parked), on an airplane, at the mall, or even sitting on the toilet with my son strapped into the BabyBjorn. But it was not always that easy. There was definitely no abracadabra, no waving of a wand that made me a pro at dispensing the magic boob juice. It took a lot of work. Especially those first few days.

The very first time I fed my son was immediately after his birth. There I was, lying in a hospital bed, exhausted, legs still in stirrups, a brand new baby placed on my chest for the first time, and the nurse says, “okay, why don’t you try breastfeeding now.”

At that point, I didn’t think at all about the process, proper positioning, or even what it feels like, I just put my son to my breast, he latched, sucked a few times, and then the nurse came back to bring him over to the scale to measure his weight and length.

“Wow! That was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” I thought to myself.   But like the rest of what happened during those first few days, I quickly realized how little I really knew.

Breastfeeding soon became a very painful experience.  Between my chronic back problems and the sore nipples due to my son not latching well, I began to dread every feeding.  And with the dread came guilt, because I desperately wanted to breastfeed my son.  I had even gone so far as to get rid of all the free formula samples I had been given because I didn’t want the temptation of formula in my house.

But there I was, not even home from the hospital yet and the pediatrician was suggesting that I might have to give my son formula for a couple days before his first check-up.  I was devastated.

Of course the devastation, the guilt, and all the other emotions I was feeling due to the post-pregnancy hormone-palooza just added to the physical stress my body was going through, making it even more difficult to comfortably breastfeed.

It took longer than average for my milk to come in, so as the pediatrician suggested I did need to supplement with formula once I got home.  This was a battle in and of itself.  My husband tried to reason with me using logic and medical advice.  Like that’s gonna work with an emotional and hormonal new mother!

In reality, I was really scared to start using formula. I was afraid that giving my son a bottle would make it harder for me to breastfeed.  Both physically and mentally. That if we started using formula, even just a little bit, that due to ease it would become our default method of feeding.  And I feared that giving him a bottle too soon would lead to the dreaded nipple confusion.

But less than 24 hours after leaving the hospital, when my son’s cries of hunger became far louder than my tears of worry, my husband gave my son his first bottle of formula. Though even my husband being the dispenser of formula didn’t ease my nerves any. If anything it made me feel even worse, thinking that I wasn’t able to provide properly for my son.

Four months later and my milk supply still isn’t great, no matter how much I did it, pumping just didn’t work for me.  All it produced was more sore nipples, not more milk. So I’m still supplementing with about four ounces of formula per day.

I estimate that my son eats about 80-90% breastmilk and 10-20% formula, but I’ve come to realize that I really have the best of both worlds. I’m able to give my son almost all the nutrition he needs while participating in a bonding experience that no bottle could ever replace.   Yet I have the flexibility to give him a bottle of formula when breastfeeding isn’t convenient.

Yes, being able to breastfeed him while sitting on the toilet is helpful, but being able to give him a bottle while pushing his stroller through Target is even better.

For the most part, I’ve been able to breastfeed wherever and whenever I need.  Or I should say, wherever and whenever my son needs.  Sometimes it may not be because he’s hungry,  just that he’s in need of the healing powers of the magic boob juice. All the pain and troubles I experienced in learning to breastfeed properly are more than worth it knowing that now, whenever he needs, I can put my son to my breast and make him feel better.  Like magic, it takes away my worries too.

Jennifer Rubin is a new mom and recent Austin transplant; she is currently a BCB Super Mom.  To read more of Jennifer’s adventures in motherhood, visit her new blog NeuroticMama. 

Have you read Nicole and JC or Kristin and Jennifer’s stories?  Please take a moment to hear their breastfeeding perspectives.

Real Moms Relate: Celebrating Your Breastfeeding Efforts

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As Breastfeeding Awareness Month continues, Bump Club and Beyond continues to celebrate the beauty of authentic breastfeeding relationships. We are grateful to be in the company of women who are willing to share their stories with one another at events, playgroups, and now… with the world.

Remember- There is no normal when it comes to breastfeeding.  Every mama, even those with rather uneventful experiences, will face challenges and doubts.  In the end, you will do what’s best for your family and whatever that looks like in practice is wonderful. Every day counts, and you deserve a pat on the back for each feeding- whether you transition after the first week or three years later.

Kristin’s Story- Breastfeeding Through Post Partum Anxiety

Kristin with her son just one day after giving birth

When I was born in 1970, breastfeeding was not as popular or encouraged as it is now.  Formula was all the rage, and my mother had a hard time finding information or support for nursing.  One day, she called my new pediatrician to ask a question about nursing, and the nurse answered sternly, “You should be feeding her every four hours and no more.”  My mother hung up the phone, sat down on the floor and cried, and fired that pediatrician.

Fast forward 38 years to 2009, when my son was born.  I have a litany of allergies, and I was determined to breastfeed so that my son would have the best chance of fighting those tendencies.  What I didn’t count on that September day were two things: the recovery from my C-section, and that I was already fighting the onset of postpartum anxiety, which was going to throw a major wrench in my wheels.

After my son was born and I got to meet him, he was whisked away for tests and my husband went with him while I was wheeled away to the recovery room.  For 90 minutes, I alternated between “I can’t wait to see my…” and “zzzzzz”.  Finally, once in my room I requested a lactation consultant and did the best I could to figure out how to help him latch on with the help of my nurses.  There is nothing quite like having strangers help you learn how to breastfeed in terms of losing your modesty, very quickly.

My son was born on a Friday, and by Saturday I was gently pressured to start him on formula because my milk supply hadn’t come in yet (which I didn’t realize was normal).  I was offered a Supplemental Nursing System (SNS), which was very difficult to use but was better, to me, then surrendering completely to the bottle.  The SNS brought a lot of anxiety and frustration but satisfied the doctors that my son was not going to fail to thrive.

Saturday afternoon, a neonatologist walked into the room and told us that our baby was mildly jaundiced.  I asked a few questions and then said, “Well, what does that mean, exactly?”  The Worst Bedside Manner award goes to… this neonatologist.  “Jaundice is… [insert medical description]… and it can cause brain damage,” she said bluntly.  I stared at her in shock as she abruptly ended our appointment and walked out.  This encounter, I believe, added greatly to my anxiety and stress.  And note, our son never needed to sit under the lights to treat jaundice for even a second.

By Monday, finally, my milk came in, as did a lactation consultant.  She helped me figure out how to use the nursing pillows and gave me some confidence.   Once I was discharged from the hospital, my supply was weak, and I researched into the night to decide what to do.  In the end, my doctor prescribed Reglan to increase my milk supply.  I pumped like a madwoman, measuring every teaspoon.  I didn’t realize it, but I was wearing out my mind and body by pumping too much on top of nursing.  I was driving myself into the ground.

Two weeks at home, I called Debbie, the lactation consultant I had seen at the hospital, and requested a house call because I was unsure whether I was producing enough milk for my son.  She patiently and compassionately went through the steps of weighing my baby, watching my technique, and weighing him again after feeding.   My husband didn’t love the $125 cost, but to me, the peace of mind was worth every penny.  I was suffering with cracked and sore nipples and exhaustion, but at least I knew my son was getting enough milk.

At the one month mark, in the face of postpartum anxiety and terrible sleep deprivation, I knew I had to beat the creature taking over my existence, but I could not get past it. The anxiety was building and building, and by the time I saw my obstetrician, I had full-out insomnia, was sleeping two hours a night, and was shaking like a vibrating bouncy seat.  I could not focus long enough to read one page of a magazine.  I hovered over the crib, checking my son’s breathing.

The doctor took one look at my face and could see I was floundering; she diagnosed me with postpartum anxiety, the close cousin to PPD.  She prescribed Zoloft to regulate my sleep and anxiety, and it took two excruciating, terrifying weeks for it to kick in.  I was heartened to know that I could still nurse with this prescription, and a friend helped me through it by sharing her experiences.

Even as the Zoloft was working its way into my system, I took Ambien – with great hesitation – to help me sleep.  I started with a half of a tablet and slept for three hours in a row.  Reading about the side effects of Ambien, I started having nightmares about sleepwalking and trying to care for my son as a zombie.  In desperation, I alternated between Tylenol PM, which made me worry about my milk supply, since it included an antihistamine; and Ambien, which scared me overall.

The light of the mornings saved me, even after a desperate night.  Finally, I got back on track.  The sun came out.  I could see how beautiful my life was again and it was even shinier and more gorgeous than I remembered it.  My son smiled through it all – although he’s never been a great sleeper, he was consistent and mellow through his first couple of months, and he nursed well.  In fact, when he weaned himself at 10 months, I was a little sad.   I had enough supply in the freezer to keep him on breast milk until he was a little over a year old.

Overall, I was proud.  I had set a goal to nurse my son for a year, and I did it!  When it comes to nursing and postpartum depression or postpartum anxiety, every mom should arm herself with information, just in case.  It’s scary, it’s real, and she may not even know she is afflicted.  Asking for help is hard, and surrounding yourself with people who can help and will help you without question means the world.   You can do it.

Kristin is a mother of a sweet little boy and wife to a 6th-generation Texan, living in Austin, Texas.  Loves: family, airplanes, airports, classic cars, sports, Italy, and dessert; not necessarily in that order. You can reach her via Twitter @AustinKVS or via her blog Two Cannoli.  Also featured on Afamilyvillage.com, hersocialnetwork.com, and ScaryMommy.com. 

Jennifer’s Story- Beautiful Bonding, Managing Expectations, and Letting Go

Jennifer and her daughter

I made the decision to breastfeed before I even found out that I was pregnant with my daughter.  I’d attended a class on breastfeeding a few months before her birth and felt I was all set to go.  Despite what I had learned in the class, I was surprised by the challenges we faced in the first week or so after she was born.  We struggled with an assortment of the typical adjustments that many mothers face: helping her latch on successfully, sore nipples, getting used to sitting still for large chunks of time while she nursed.  Once we settled into a routine, I found myself craving the intensely bonding experience and was amazed at how easy it suddenly felt.  It was wonderful.

My husband and I had noticed that our daughter would get really agitated and cry out whenever she was having a bowel movement and made a mental note to bring it up at her next appointment with the pediatrician. A few nights later, we stood over her bassinet gasping at the sight of blood in her diaper.  Understandably shaken and concerned, we took her in the next morning and found out that she was likely unable to digest something that she was getting through my breast milk.  I was advised to cut out all dairy and soy to see if that would solve the problem and I willingly did so.

Over the next two months, I made every attempt to keep both out of my diet, but we were still finding blood in her stool.  I started to question if I should continue.  How was this constant irritation affecting her?  I consulted with numerous professionals and was  reminded over and over again how good breastfeeding is for babies.  I didn’t need reminding.  I knew full well the benefits of breastmilk, and the last thing I wanted to do was to stop, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be the best thing for her. After much soul-searching (and many shed tears), I decided to stop breastfeeding.

The blood was gone within a few days of switching her to a special formula, and she never experienced any more issues with milk or food after that point.  It took a few months to let go of the guilt and to get to the point where I wouldn’t get a lump in my throat whenever I saw the other women in my mama’s group breastfeeding.  I would absolutely try to breastfeed again with another child, but I feel confident that I made the right decision in this case.

This whole process was one of the biggest challenges I’ve faced in my two-plus years of motherhood.  Looking back, I can see how, difficult as it was, this stumbling block gave me my first big opportunity to follow my intuition as a mother, and for that I am really grateful.

Jennifer Rustgi’s blog, Kid Culture Austin, is a great resource for recommendations on kid-friendly venues, activities, and events in Austin.

Did you have a chance to read JC and Nicole’s differing experiences with milk production challenges?  Check out their stories here.

Real Moms Relate: Breastfeeding Through Production Challenges

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Breastfeeding is certainly making headlines these days- which is awesome!  The way I see it, the more people are discussing it, the more information is disseminated to interested moms-to-be (and moms-to-be-be-to!).  Every article- negative or positive- provides an opportunity to educate the general public about the benefits of breastfeeding.

But there’s a catch… There’s always a catch isn’t there!?

In the attempt to convey how amazing breastfeeding is for nursing moms, we sometimes leave out the information about the challenges we face.  We have the best of intentions in sharing all the positives… but by leaving out the deltas, we present a rosey-cheeked, Stepfordized view of breastfeeding goodness and perfection.  And from the perspective of a first time mom-to-be, this perfect view might be what they view as “normal.”

Here is the absolute truth- There is NO breastfeeding normal.

It’s a relationship you share with a trembling, fragile being who is struggling to understand her new environment.  There will be bumps, there will be bruises, and any amount of time that you are able to do it is right… and good… and perfect.

But don’t just take my word for it- I’ve assembled the stories of some awe-inspiring breastfeeding mamas over the next two weeks so you can see what normal meant for them!

You’ll see what I mean… each one shares an experience that was perfectly imperfect and shaped the way they mother.

Enjoy!

JC’s Story- Getting a Grip on Overproduction

I am a small person — 5 foot 4 inches, 117 pounds. I am a D cup (not something I would normally talk about but it has relevance as you read). After I gave birth to my first child and my milk came in, my cup size grew to a double G as in gigantic. My skin was stretched to shiny taunt balloon stage. My chest was in constant pain and I was given a litany of contradictory advice — pump, don’t pump, use cabbage leaves, drink caffeine. I developed mastitis and a high fever because I resisted the urge to pump. I breast fed but that didn’t ease the swelling or production.

My step-mother, a doctor, constantly reminded me, “Don’t pump. You’ll over produce.”

Yeah, that’s what I was doing already. Could it get worse? I started to look at the pump like an addict would the vice of choice. I longed to use it. But with the self-control/OCD side of my personality in full alert I didn’t do it. If I had known then what I know now, well, things would’ve been different.

Though not a common affliction, hyperlaction typically happens in women who are at the top end of the milk-producing gland scale. Women typically have between 100,000 – 300,000 alveoli (milk-producing glands) per breast, according to the American Association of Pediatrics. While babies suffer from too little milk, too much milk also creates problems. Many babies will only nurse for a minute or two because the flow is too much, meaning the baby isn’t full when he stops nursing, won’t sleep well and will come back to feed again only to face the same circumstances. The baby will also stop nursing before he gets the hind milk that is deeper in the breast, higher in fat and more sustaining. Often babies with over producing mothers seem to be victims of acid reflux. They are colicky and spit up a lot. My son fit this description perfectly.

After a sleepless night of feeding my child who was waking up every twenty minutes because he was hungry and not being able to move without feeling the pain of my chest, I gave in and pumped — let me say it was the best decision. I don’t understand why people tell you not to. I don’t understand why people try to tell new mothers to do anything that will put them in constant discomfort — aren’t we already a little out of sorts? My advice: Do whatever works for you. Forget about whatever story you told yourself about breast feeding and cut yourself a break.

I figured out the pumping/breast feeding cycle with my son. He grew much happier and I did too. I pumped more than 300 ounces in one month. My freezer was filled with neatly labelled bags of breast milk gold and I took all of them to the Mother’s Milk Bank, an organization that pasteurizes breast milk and delivers it to the most needy and sick babies in the country who may not survive without it.

J.C. Conklin is co-founder of Gorgeous Millie, a teacher led playgroup for 0-3 year olds and their parents/caregivers, www.gorgeousmillie.com. Gorgeous Millie will host an open house for interested mothers August 22, 10 am to noon, email admissions@gorgeousmillie.com to reserve a spot.

Nicole’s Story- Overcoming Underproduction

Terrified.  Two years ago, I was about three months pregnant with my first baby – and I was TERRIFIED.  Sure I was thrilled, ecstatic and amazed of this tiny little being inside me BUT above all else, I was terrified.  Was she okay in there?  Did she have ten fingers and ten toes?  Was she okay in there?  Did she have any of the crazy-scary birth defects that I was reading about in the plethora of pregnancy books strewn on my bedside table? Was she okay in there?  Was she dancing to the prenatal Vivaldi playlist every night?  Was all my omega-3 consumption making her a MENSA member from birth?  WAS SHE OKAY IN THERE?

It’s not like me to be a nervous nelly but this lack of control in my very type-A persona had me terrified.  SO to calm my senseless nerves, I dove into uncovering any and all information related to pregnancy and babies – reading every book and taking any class I could find.  Newborn care class, Happiest Baby on the Block class, hypno-birthing class, labor and delivery class, breastfeeding class, terrified at being a mama class?  You name it.  I reassured myself that as long as I prepared for everything, I would stop being terrified.

A breastfeeding class topped my list of necessities as I vowed to exclusively breastfeed my child for all the countless benefits for both Mom and baby.  I went through the seminar and understood that it may not be easy but I would stick with it and do anything I could so that my child drank only breastmilk.

Then out came my sweet little peanut (and while it was much more hellish than that – it’s definitely called labor for a reason; I’ll leave that for another blog post) and I was ready to tackle motherhood with a well-researched gusto that my deep-down terrified self could only cower from.  I told the hospital staff from the start that I wanted to nurse immediately and exclusively – no bottles or pacis.  And we did – E latched on intuitively and I was amazed… everything was going SO smoothly.  20 minutes on each side, every couple hours.  We had it down.  Though it seemed like we were nursing ALL THE TIME – she was suckling it seemed pretty perfectly.

But in came my terrified self again and I was paranoid that she was not getting enough.  I remembered my breastfeeding class info of how tiny a baby’s stomach is in the first few days/weeks and I tried to reassure myself that everything was fine.  BUT my milk wasn’t coming in… I was CRAZY swollen, just not in my breasts (the one place I wanted some edema!).  My ankles did not exist – I had full on Fat-Bastard cankles. (Thank goodness for maxi dresses.)  And because I was retaining so much fluid – my milk really wasn’t coming in for days!  So even though E’s latch seemed perfect and she was suckling for the right amount of time – she wasn’t getting very much.  And this baby (while I was sure she would come out weighing 40 pounds considering ALL of the weight I gained) was only 6 lbs., 7 oz. at birth.  And when we went to our first pediatrician appointment she dropped down close to the red flag of 10% weight lost.  I was again TERRIFIED.

So even though I swore we wouldn’t use formula (and had some folks still saying that I should just stick with it and wait until my milk came in), I realized that the most important thing in the world to me was having a healthy, nourished baby – that was my responsibility to my new child.  So I worked with my lactation consultant and we came up with a plan where every feeding I would nurse for 10 minutes on each side and then supplement E with newborn formula, AND THEN pump – to get my milk supply established.  It wasn’t quick BUT after just a few more days, it worked – E gained weight, my cankles deflated (thank god!), my boobs engorged with milk and I stopped being terrified!  We supplemented for a few days with formula and then breastfed exclusively.  E was growing and absolutely perfect in my completely unbiased eyes.  (I know a few Moms who had to stick with supplementing with formula as their milk supply just couldn’t meet their newborns’ demands – they ALL agree that their kids are healthy and happy and are thrilled that they at least had the added benefit of some breastmilk.)

Moral of the story, things won’t always go quite as planned on your crazy motherhood journey BUT cut yourself some slack, hang in there, get some help and know that everything will work out.  If you do what you know deep down is right and don’t listen to the neigh-sayers (isn’t it annoying how everybody always has advice for you?!), you will be the very best Mom to your baby– and not at all terrified!

Nicole Locke is well known by our Austin members as President of Bump Club and Beyond, Austin — a social events company for Moms and Moms-to-be.  Check out what’s happening at Bump Club Austin.

Are YOU interested in becoming a milk donor?  Mother’s Milk Bank is currently unable to keep up with the demand of milk needed by premature and medically fragile babies- they NEED your help.  Please visit their site to see how you can help save a tiny life!

Breastfeeding Awareness Month: What Breastfeeding Means to Me

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Sixteen months ago I made a definitive parenting decision.  I decided I would be a breastfeeding mom.  It was a decision I had “made” long before my daughter’s actual birth, but- as we all know as parents- choice doesn’t become reality until we take action.  I made my decision based on theory- it was the healthiest choice, it was financially prudent, and it was reported to facilitate bonding.  From the perspective of someone who had never before changed a diaper, these seemed like valid reasons.

Sixteen months ago a nurse placed a trembling, redheaded miracle at my breast and let her latch on… naturally… intuitively… beautifully.  I stared in awe of her instinctive knowledge and wisdom, tipping my chin to the top of her head and tentatively kissing my daughter.  It was a moment of perfection.

Sixteen months ago I spent two nights in the maternity ward with my daughter by my side.  She wailed for what seemed like hours at a time.  She would feed briefly and fall asleep, only to wake up soon to resume her chorus of shouts.  Though her latch was good, my nipples hurt more than I every thought possible.  My milk hadn’t come in yet.  I didn’t sleep a wink.  It was no longer a moment of perfection.

Sixteen months ago the hospital staff, in what I can only assume was mild confusion and eagerness to be rid of my little nugget with a redheaded temper, discharged me- despite the fact that I hadn’t passed a parenting test… or memorized “What to Expect: The First Year”… or even verbally verified that I knew when and how to swaddle a baby- and sent me on my bewildered way with three (too large) size one diapers, a pink stocking cap, and no formula samples since I had expressed a desire to exclusively breastfeed.  I was going to have to figure things out.  It was a moment of sheer terror.

Sixteen months ago I arrived home and slowly, unsteadily, fell into the groove of being a breastfeeding mother.  Four days after giving birth, my milk came in with an eagerness and gusto that I lacked appreciation for as I hadn’t yet discovered the amazing life saving gift that is milk donation.  Baby N became a cluster feeder and I decided to honor her feeding needs and threw the schedules to the wind.  We found out N had food sensitivities so my diet became dairy- soy- egg- fish and peanut-free. I lost weight, lost sleep, and found other breastfeeding moms who assured me it was natural to be sleep deprived, leaky, and sore nippled. But I also found confidence in my ability to provide for my baby.  I became adept at unblocking a clogged milk duct to prevent mastitis during my infrequent three minute showers.  I honed my coordination to allow me to do almost anything one handed while breastfeeding.  And I learned that with two Ta Ta Tamers from lululemon I could almost make it through a run before I needed to nurse again.  These were moments of survival.

Sixteen months ago I made a choice that has continued to give me permission to pause during the whirlwind that is motherhood.  I get to take a break from the world, in the solitude of N’s nursery or the hustle and bustle of crowded public spaces, to focus solely on my baby.  We have moments that belong to us- only us.  I can tip my chin to the top of her head, breathe deeply to inhale her smell, and kiss her gingerly.  I can reflect on all the millions of reasons why I love her, love life, love motherhood and file these memories away for a time much too soon when I no longer get these treasured moments. Sometimes there are those fleeting moments of eye contact or milky smiles that tell me she knows what I know and feels what I feel- we are connected, we take care of each other.  These are moments of love.

I’ve been lucky to spend the past sixteen months as a nursing mama. It fits our lifestyle and fills my family’s needs for which I am grateful. When I made this choice, I never imagined how insanely difficult breastfeeding can be at times.  I also couldn’t fathom the depth of meaning it carries in my relationship with my daughter.  Even in the moments when I am exhausted, ill, or irritated, nursing N provides us both with comfort and consolation.  They are moments I wouldn’t trade for the world.

Thank you to Jessica Chapman of Bumps to Babies Photography for the beautiful labor and delivery images.

Pumping woes…

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A lot of you have been asking me to blog more often about my experiences as a new mom. I have to preface this post by saying, I am not writing this post to offend anyone. As many of you know already, I am a firm believer in the fact that everyone is different and what works for you may not work for me and what works for me may not work for you. I am aware that this post my elicit some comments or discussion, but I have to get this off my chest…figuratively that is since I literally just finished pumping. As many of you can likely guess, I am referring to breast pumping.

A few years ago I never, ever would have imagined breastfeeding my child, let alone doing it for as long as I have—I am now going on four months. As I have mentioned before, Baby J has gotten formula since she came out of the womb and still gets 1-2 bottles a day from our friends at Enfamil. I know that I am doing a good thing here but boy is it hard. Everyone talks about how hard it is in the beginning to get the baby to latch and on a feeding schedule, etc. No one talks about how it is still hard a few months down the road when your life revolves around pumping or feeding or both. I still think it’s hard. And I am sharing my thoughts to let anyone else who has them know—you are not alone.

Who knows, maybe I am flying solo on this one?

I am now an exclusive pumper as it has become a much more efficient practice for me (again, everyone is different…what works for me may not work for you and that is OK.) After four months I will still say, breastfeeding (or pumping in my case) is STILL HARD.

I am just starting to feel for the most part back to normal. My old clothes are starting to fit, I feel good (ok that is an exaggeration, I feel better than last month) when I get dressed in the morning. I have fully recovered from labor and delivery and can walk up and down my stairs the same way I did a year ago. I would say ALMOST everything is normal again—everything that is except for the fact that I have to stop what I am doing 4-5 times a day, put on my Simple Wishes hands-free pumping bra, and pump a bottle for Baby J. All this pumping is making me feel a little bit like an animal. I have to plan my day around when to pump and admittedly and maybe selfishly, sometimes I find it annoying.

When I was back at my old office for a few weeks (before making BCB my full time gig) I had to lug my pump on the el to go downtown and then pump in a conference room (where I once found people eating), and then put my milk in the communal fridge. One time I forgot my milk and got halfway to the el before I realized and had to turn back around to go retrieve it. This was annoying and I am sure my feelings about pumping would be even more down in the dumps if I were still functioning that way. A friend of mine on the other hand visits the Four Seasons of Lactation Rooms every day at her company. They provide private space, lockers, mirrors for when you have to get re-dressed, hospital grade pumps and even little Lucite frames to put pictures of your baby in. And oh yeah—she has access to a lactation consultant too! For those of you out there who have access to this kind of support you are VERY LUCKY!

I know I am very fortunate in that I am still producing milk. Since I am, I am going to keep pumping it out for my baby girl. I don’t know how long I am going to keep going, but I wanted to share my sentiments with all of you in case you feel the same way. If there is anything I can guarantee, it is that you are not alone. I promise.