Sunday afternoon… Keeks wakes up from a nap, I prep her bottle and she downs it like a champ. I haven’t tried nursing her in a week. I got tired of being punched, yelled at, and above all watching her cry til she’s bright red because all she wants is to eat, RIGHT NOW, not when milk decides to come out, but NOW. Anyway, I hand her off to Justin and head on to our room to pump. As I sit there getting milked, yup – like a cow, I hear them playing. She’s got tons of new “word” and is having the longest conversation with her dad. I’m missing it because I have to pump, because breast is best and god forbid I don’t give my baby even the last drop of milk I have.
The pressure to breastfeed is surreal; sometimes it doesn’t work and when it doesn’t you try pumping. What is pumping like? It’s when you spend somewhere between 20-30min attached to this vacuum like machine, being milked like a cow and to me, it’s always been 20min where I sit there feeling upset, sad, or mad or all three because honestly it’s just a constant reminder of how I (or we) couldn’t make it work.
Feeding Chiara was a battle from day one, not because she’s picky (trust me she’s not) but because she’s hungry, or better said she’s hangry. Our baby girl has a large appetite and from day one I struggled to keep up with her. I’m writing this rant for two reasons to vent myself free of all guilt and to tell my now pregnant friends or those who went through something similar: do what’s best for you, if it works that’s awesome! You’re giving your baby the best of the best start. If it doesn’t and you end up supplementing or combo feeding like I am/was then guess what, it’s also a great star. What’s important is that baby is fed and that both mom and bub are happy. I wish someone had told me this early on.
Our Story?
In the beginning babies lose up to 10% of their birth weight, by week two babies are suppose to gain it back. On day 14th Chiara was still 7% below. I was crying at each feed, and I barely had one happy moment memory with her: the first mini hug when she was born. One night I was alone at home (Justin on a trip and my parents at their place) and Chiara wakes up, hangry. I try nursing her and she keeps fussing, pulling away, hitting me and crying. I decide to check for myself and nothing is coming out..nothing not even a drop. I don’t know/remember how she fell asleep; it was at some point during my attempt at reaching a 24hr nurse to see what I could do. That was it that was the moment I knew exclusive breast-feeding wouldn’t work. The next day the doctor confirmed she wasn’t gaining weight fast enough, so he told me to start supplementing 1oz (30ml) of formula after each feed. Cutting out all the details of mixed emotions and final attempts at only nursing + pumping, I fast forward to her first bottle of formula. Two weeks old Chiara didn’t only want 1oz, she chugged 2. After nursing, after every feed, girl wanted 2. A week later she was downing 2-3oz after each feed. Caught up with her weight and nicely settled herself in the 50th percentile.
For 3 months I continued to nurse, pump and formula feed. At 2.5 months Keeks would nurse and proceed to have 3-4oz of formula at each feed. Slowly she started to refuse nursing during the day and finally at the three month mark at night as well, so yea, I’ve been pumping exclusively.
Fast forward to this morning…
Justin had to leave for work, Chiara is fed, changed and playing on the floor by herself, because I NEED to pump. I’ve been toying with the idea of quitting for a week and as I sit there pumping I watch her talk and fight with her fist because it won’t fit her mouth. All of the sudden she starts shouting at me. Not crying, just shouting trying to get my attention. I tell her I’m almost done and as I talk to her she kind of smiles and then shouts again. I turn off the pump and come sit next to her and her toys and she smiles. She smiles big and gets excited. She wiggles her legs and grabs my arm with her tiny little uncoordinated hands and smiles and talks some more. She got so so happy. That was the moment. Ladies and gentlemen the battle is over. I’m done.
I’m done feeling sad, upset, and frustrated. Done being attached to a pump that only makes me miss moments with her. Done feeling guilty, or like I’m less for not exclusively breast-feeding my child.
Formula is no McDonald’s it’s a great alternative for moms who couldn’t or choose not to breastfeed. Guess what, I was a tough baby – I was colicky, I hated milk, I cried for hours at a time at the top of my lungs. Our neighbors would come over to check if everything was ok, my parents friends had this on going game: let’s see who can make Jime stop crying, and I was combo fed up to 3.5months and then formula from then on.
I started talking at 8-10months, walked by 10 months. By 1 year old I was having full on conversations with adults. I rarely got sick, the only disease I ever got was chicken pox (there were no vaccines back then). As soon as I was able to sit and start solids I was the happiest, most interactive, independent child. I was a straight A student, Graduated Notre Dame with a pretty good GPA. I’m a CPA and oh, have I mentioned that as a kid I would play and compete in 2-3 sports at the same time? I excelled in swimming, scored goals on my field hockey team, I’m a decent tennis player, enjoyed ballet, played soccer (wasn’t too good but that’s skill not ability), I even tried volleyball (too short). Oh and by the way, I represented my country on the gymnastics National Team. Yea you might have not none that because I hate bragging, praise humbleness, but I did great. I think I turned out pretty well myself and guess what I was formula fed, whenever I did decide to eat (my poor mom bless her heart for sticking it through). So yes, I am pretty awesome and no I wasn’t exclusively breastfed.
Fast forward to my child. Strong neck from day 1, very active and alert, started rolling over and pushing up at 2 months. She’s strong and happy as can be and yes she’s formula fed. She won’t be worse off because of it, because she’s got two loving and caring parents and a huge family who will be there for her no matter what. I tried my hardest and now I’m ready to fully enjoy her without the gloomy guilt hanging over me.
So to all my future momma friends I say, if it works out I’m so happy for you! And that’s amazing news! But if for some reason it doesn’t… try not to sweat it, don’t let the pressure get to you and above all if you need to vent, cry, or someone to tell you it’s going to be ok you know where to find me!
And now… off to play with Queen C