When I was pregnant, my midwife encouraged me to breastfeed.
The NCT and antenatal classes showed me different techniques, and told me what to expect. There were no breastfeeding problems that couldn’t be overcome, they said. Only 1% of women could not make enough milk for their baby; that was a fact. Just 1%!
And so breastfeed I did. My baby was whipped out by the surgeon, and once we were in recovery I placed her on the breast and she latched on immediately and fed, pausing only to swallow, before she fell asleep in a milk drunk stupor.
It hadn’t been as easy for some of my friends; some of their babies were too sleepy, some were tongue tied and many just didn’t have a clue what they were supposed to do.
I remember feeling happy that it was going so well. This was so easy, why wasn’t everyone doing it?
Then, quite quickly, breastfeeding stopped being easy.
After a few days of round-the-clock feeding, it started to hurt. Soon my nipples were raw, cracked and bleeding, and I winced with pain whenever she latched.
I knew it was best for my baby, and it should be easy. That’s what they said, so I carried on through tears and gritted teeth. I asked my midwife for advice, I even went to a lactation consultant – I’m not sure they’re even around these days – but I went. I was determined.
With help and new techniques and most importantly time, the pain subsided, but my baby just wouldn’t stop feeding and she was horribly sick after every feed. I did skin to skin, I expressed, I took fenugreek, I ate oats, I demand fed, I tried everything. She still wouldn’t put on weight.
After a while, it was too worrying. Her reflux was just too much. Under the paediatrician’s advice, we started combi-feeding.
More tears were shed; I felt like I’d let myself and my baby down.
Looking back it was clear that my daughter thrived once she was combi-fed. She instantly turned into a chubby, very happy baby.
I knew I had tried my hardest.
Everyone had tried to tell me what I should be doing, I had a lot of conflicting advice – Feed on demand and around the clock! Don’t feed as much, give your milk time to build up! – and I’d listened to and tried them all; nothing had worked.
I was still breastfeeding most feeds and I would carry on doing so until she weaned, so she was getting the best of what I could offer. Combi-feeding brought with it some advantages; I no longer had to be present for every feed, so I could get an early night and more sleep.
So why did I still feel so awful?
The NCT statistics just kept beating me around the head – in other countries, this was no big deal. Everywhere else, mums just breastfed. It was natural, that’s what the midwives said, it should work. But for some reason, I couldn’t sustain my baby.
It was painful, and it wasn’t working like it should.
In the back of my mind I kept thinking; my baby might not be alive was it not for formula. In another place, in another time, I would not have been so lucky.
The guilt was immense.
It’s crazy now, looking back, that I ever thought like this at all.
Of course it is – my daughter is fine. More than fine. She is now healthy, clever, kind, sassy and everything that a six-year-old should be.
As soon as she could eat proper food, she did so with gusto – even the vegetables – and you wouldn’t have been able to tell her apart from any other child.
Did knowing this make it any easier when I struggled with my second baby the exact same way I had done with my first? Not even a little.
Mum-guilt has a hell of a lot to answer for.
Breastfeeding can be hard, but the hardest part is dealing with the pressure we put on ourselves.
We are so fortunate to live in a wonderful time of choice.
Breastmilk might be best for your baby, and I am a huge advocate of breastfeeding and would encourage any new mum to do so… but never at the cost of your own physical and mental well being.