Joseph was born on 25 January 2007. The birth was no where near as bad as I had imagined. It was painful, but quick. John jokes about the birth now, laughing at me saying ‘I can’t do it, I can’t, I want to go home...oh my baby’.

Joe was 10 days early and perfect. We were so excited to finally get to see and hold our beautiful boy. My midwife put him to my breast in the delivery room as soon as he’d been checked out, and he latched on like a pro . In the haze of birthing hormones and euphoria I thought everything was going perfectly. There was only one small problem – I had no colostrum, so he was sucking away at nothing. He was obviously hungry, but getting nothing from me, so because Joseph was small (6pd 4oz) my midwife organised for him to have 10ml of formula once we were taken up to the ward. Joseph scoffed it down, kept it down and went to sleep. The same thing happened again at the next feed time – I tried breastfeeding him, he latched on fine, no colostrum or milk again, so he ended up with another 10ml of formula. I actually felt OK about him having formula for those first few feeds. I knew that it usually took a couple of days for milk to come in after giving birth and I thought that because he knew how to latch on we’d be away laughing once I had milk. I hadn’t slept much in the few hours we’d been there (I’d stayed awake to watch my precious new baby sleep!) and really wasn’t thinking much further than getting out of hospital and settling in at home. 

We left the ward that morning (about 12 hours after the birth) after the paediatrician checked Joseph and my Midwife had been in to see how we were doing. They both seemed happy about what was happening with Joseph’s feeding, so I didn’t think too much about it.

About seven years ago I had breast surgery. At the time I was told that it wouldn’t interfere with any normal breast function, ie. breast feeding. Not really thinking too much about it, babies were the last thing on my mind, I took the surgeon’s word for it and carried on with the surgery. Looking at information available about breast surgery now, it’s hard to say if I would have done things differently if I’d had an eye on the future back then. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Looking back on it, the only thing that would have influenced my decision then, is knowing how I feel now about not being able to fully breastfeed. I went into the pregnancy and birth trying to adopt John’s laid back attitude - same for breastfeeding.

The pregnancy and birth went really well, but when the breastfeeding didn’t kick in after a few days, and I was still sore from the birth, sleep deprived and full of hormones, the laid back feeling disappeared. I have always had high expectations of myself. I hate to come second and I don’t deal well with failure or not being in control. I think that my strong personality combined with the information I’d received at antenatal class, hospital, and through reading books and magazines meant that not being able to breastfeed wasn’t a consideration. I conditioned myself to believe that it was my duty as Joseph’s Mum to give him the best start in life that I possibly could – which meant breastfeeding.

My midwives, (I had two sharing my care), were really good during that first daunting week and checked everyday to see what was happening. They were open and honest and encouraging. They explained to me that my lack of milk production was probably due to nerve damage done at the time of surgery and that the damage was stopping the hormones getting the right messages from brain to breast. End result: no milk was being produced. To them I probably appeared positive and relaxed about it all, saying that I could only try and if it didn’t work, well never mind, but internally there was no such feeling. In my head there was no choice, I had to breastfeed. Partially I was responding to my maternal instincts but on another level I think it was my subconscious response to those people who criticised my decision to have breast surgery. One of my midwives also told me that two other women that she knew that had also had surgery were never able to feed, and that if my milk did come in it was likely that I would always have to top up with formula. When I first heard this I was still convinced that I’d be different and it would all sort itself out in a couple of days.

Each day in that first week, I put Joseph on the breast at least once a day so that he wouldn’t forget how to latch on. We gave him formula at every feed, as there was nothing else to do. He was so good and patient and we were so lucky that he took both breast and bottle. It would have been shattering for me if he had rejected one or the other. I never imagined that one of my proudest moments would be sitting on the couch with steaming hot breasts pulling wilting cabbage leaves out of the front of my bra. At the end of that week, when my milk came in I couldn’t wait for Joe to wake up and feed. It felt so good to see my milk dribbling down the side of his wee face! I loved breastfeeding Joe. It was ‘our’ time together, and I just felt so secure and special with my little man cuddled up close.

Joseph was breastfed for four months even though my milk supply was very low. I never got the engorged feeling, or felt a let down of milk. Joseph was ‘topped up’ with formula at every feed - I say topped up, but really my milk was like an entree to the main course. He probably got between 30 and 50 ml from me each feed during the best weeks. I tried expressing to encourage more milk production but it was painful and slow. Disillusionment set in. I ate plenty, drank lots of water, did all the right things, but in the end it didn’t matter - I just couldn’t produce enough milk. Feeds took a long time. I put Joe on each breast for about 10-15mins and then gave him formula.

For the last month I dropped breastfeeds off as he started to get bored and upset and would pull my nipples in an effort to get more milk out. The early morning feed was hardest to lose. Not only because I always struggled to get out of bed, but because it was the last feed we kept on, and it was the most amazing way to start my day.

I felt really guilty in those first few months. I blamed myself for not fully considering the effects my surgery might have on breastfeeding. I felt like a bad mother for not being able to supply my son with the best. I felt like a bad wife. If John had married someone else his son would be being better cared for. Stupid stuff because John has never judged me, he has supported me throughout and is only concerned about Joseph and I being happy. I felt like I had to explain to everyone who saw me bottle feeding that I was also breast feeding, but that I didn’t have enough milk. I stopped short of telling them it was because I’d had my boobs done. Imagine it – bottle feeding and a boob job, what a scandal!

I felt that when Joseph and I went out and bottle-fed, people looked at us and judged me as a bad mother. To compensate, I tried to breastfeed whenever I was out with friends. It made me feel a little bit more normal, but wasn’t good for Joseph. He’d pretty much be feeding the whole time, trying really hard to fill up his wee tummy. I’d come away with really sore nipples, and he’d end up having a bottle anyway. I just wanted to be able to breastfeed so much that I couldn’t admit to myself that it just wasn’t going to work for me. I teetered between defiance and denial. I now realise that I was the only one doing the judging because I felt I had failed my son. To an extent I had failed. My expectations had exceeded my body’s ability. In my head I chose to breastfeed. My body chose otherwise and it broke my heart.

The conflicting information and pressure to breastfeed was overwhelming. On one hand I’d been told by friends that breastfeeding wasn’t easy, baby has to learn to latch, it hurts, it’s exhausting. On the other, I was told was that our amazing bodies would produce milk on a demand and supply basis. In antenatal class breastfeeding was the only method of feeding discussed. My surgeon told me there would be no problem. According to polite society breastfeeding was the only way to feed my baby. After Joe latched on so easily I thought that was the hard bit done.

Going into breastfeeding with this expectation is one of the reasons that I found it so hard and felt so much guilt when I didn’t have enough milk. It wasn’t until about six weeks on that I started to talk to other new Mums about struggling to cope with breastfeeding. One of my antenatal group also had a low milk supply and had been advised not to top up with formula. I remember telling her that yes I felt guilty supplementing Joseph’s feeds with formula but that I didn’t want my boy to go hungry. I was defensive. It was a way to hide my feelings of guilt, but it was also my reality.

When Joseph was about three months old I met more new Mums who were also bottle feeding. There was an amazing sense of relief to hear that other people had been unable to breastfeed. It was the first time since Joe was born that I felt normal, and like a good Mum. It was my turning point. There was no overnight fix, I still feel the guilt to a lesser degree but I no longer feel the need to explain to people why we bottle feed. In some ways it’s a blessing that Joseph is bottle fed as it allows John to have that special bonding time with him too. It’s been amazing to watch friends and family join in such a personal experience and have those close moments with our son.

Joseph is big, strong and healthy and doing everything he is meant to. I have to assume that the surgery damaged some nerves, but I made a choice about my body years ago that affects me now and I can’t live with regrets. If I am lucky enough to have another baby I will have more realistic expectations about what my body can do, but I do intend to try breastfeeding again. If the same thing happens again I will be better prepared for dealing with my own feelings. I will make sure that my decisions are based on what is best for me and my family rather than a need to conform to what is, for me, an unachievable ideal.

I will always remember the day I found out I was pregnant – it just happened to be the day I got engaged as well, making it extremely memorable, extremely scary, and extremely happy all at the same time! I never did envisage then, the trouble that I would end up having in the first 8 weeks of our daughter’s life. I was the calm one during the pregnancy, knowing it would be hard with sleepless nights and that it would be life changing, but it would all be ok. My fiancé was freaking out; hearing endless stories of how he would never leave the house again and life as he knew it would be over! Once our daughter was born however, he was the calm one, my rock in the end to quite a difficult time.

I was 6 days overdue, and fed up. I had been walking up and down very steep hills, eating hot curries and having acupuncture to help bring on the labour. My first contraction came at 7am on Saturday morning, and our daughter was born at 3.15pm after a very quick and full on labour! There was no time for pain relief, and barely enough time to get to the hospital, but when she arrived it was the best thing in the world!

I had thought I would like to spend 2 nights in hospital, but when my fiancé had to leave at 10pm that night I just wanted to leave with him. I was scared to be alone with this tiny baby, who I knew depended completely on me, and I just didn’t really know what to do with! There was an absolutely fantastic midwife there (and I can’t remember her name!) who helped me a lot during my first night with baby. She spent a long time helping me with feeding, and trying to latch her on. It seemed that baby wasn’t really interested in feeding, or having trouble latching on, so I ended up manually expressing colustrum, while the midwife sucked it up into a syringe for us to give to baby. Looking back it was such a random thing to do, but colostrum is like ‘gold’ so I felt it was important to do what we could to give baby some. Dealing with the syringe however, to actually give it to baby was a different matter, and the next day when my midwife came to visit us, most of the colostrum ended up in her hair!! I was mortified, she was very upset, but only because she knew how long it would have taken us to get that much!!! Quite funny looking back, but not at the time!

Now I must back track a little, as this information is quite important to our story. Nearly 6 years ago now I had a breast reduction. It was the best thing I have ever done for myself, as I had endured years of breaking back pain, and an inability to do things others take for granted, like running for example. I went from a large E cup to a C cup, and instantly the pain was gone, even though my surgeon said that the pain may not be from my breasts. He also said that I probably wouldn’t be able to exclusively breast feed, but may be able to as they hadn’t had to completely remove the nipple during the operation. Now even though I had this in mind, for some reason in my head I could still breast feed no problem!

We went home the next day, quite nervous about what was ahead of us, but excited too. My Mum stayed with us for 3 days and was an absolute godsend. I don’t know what I would have done without her. Anyway we headed home without any kind of instruction on routine, or feeding patterns, or even how to latch baby on properly. Our own midwife gave us information when she came to visit, every day at first then once or twice a week.

I was told however that I would need to ‘top up’ with formula as I wouldn’t have as much milk because of my reduction. This consisted of 10mls formula given to baby with a syringe. They recommended a syringe over the bottle in order to stop the baby from refusing the breast, as the bottle is a lot easier to get milk from. I would feed baby on one breast, and then top up. Using the syringe was an absolute nightmare, and definitely a 2 person job. How was I going to do this once my fiancé went back to work?

On day 3 we all had a melt down. Mum had gone home, and baby cried solidly from 10pm until 4.30am – nothing would sooth her, she wouldn’t feed on the breast and we couldn’t get any milk into her with a syringe as she was crying to hard. We rang Mum in tears, who suggested that we give her a ‘sucky’ (dummy) – feeling like the worst mother in the world I sterilized the sucky and gave it to her. 2 minutes later she was asleep!

Feeding was still a problem, so we were referred to a lactation consultant, who because she was so busy (and on holiday) had to help me over the phone. I was taught a new way of feeding called Switch feeding. Basically you fed baby on one breast, then after 10 mins switched to the other breast, burped baby, then back on the first breast for 5 mins, then switched to the other breast for 5 mins, then topped up with formula (in the syringe). After that I was to keep expressing milk so to encourage more milk production. I carried on doing this for the next week or so, however Baby was still very unsettled and not sleeping much. By this stage I was stressed, exhausted and barely able to look after myself. I had trouble remembering to eat, or even get dressed. I couldn’t leave the house, even to the letter box. I had sore cracked and bleeding nipples (from expressing) and would cry in pain when my daughter fed on them. I really didn’t think motherhood would be like this at all, and I can honestly say I wasn’t enjoying it at that stage. People have told me now that they were worried about me getting post natal depression, and looking back I even thought that myself. I was very lucky though to have huge amount of support around me: my fiancé, my Mum and Parents in Law, best friends etc…..

Day 10 was a turning point in my story. Once again it was my Mum who pointed out (in a loving way) that it was ridiculous to be feeding our daughter with a syringe, and that because it was a 2 person job, how was I going to do it when my fiancé went back to work? I agreed that I didn’t know what I was going to do, and she told me to stop being silly and go and make up a bottle. Feeling like the worst mother in the world, I begrudgingly made up some formula, 50mls as that is the minimum you could make, and sat in a chair with baby in arms and started giving it to her. I sat there with all sorts of feelings of guilt and inadequacy, all the while baby was drinking that bottle so fast it was gone in a matter of minutes! We ended up making more and she had a total of 150mls in that one sitting. After that she promptly went to sleep for 2 hours!

I was amazed – she hadn’t slept that long since we had brought her home with us! All of a sudden I realised that she had obviously been starving the whole time, and because she obviously wasn’t getting any milk from me, 10mls just wasn’t enough! Again I was wracked with feelings of guilt. Switch feeding is designed to help encourage milk production, but obviously because of my surgery, I just couldn’t produce enough milk regardless! Immediately we began a routine of switch feeding, and then topping up with a bottle of formula, which she was drinking about 100 – 150mls each time. Quite quickly after that, her sleeping began to get a bit better. Although this feeding routine took me over an hour, it was worth it to have a settled baby. My fiancé went back to work after 2 weeks at home, which was quite sad as his help and support was amazing during that rough time.

During week 3, I managed my first trip out of the house with baby. This ended up being another turning point as I got some extremely valuable advice. I went to a Baby and You class, and learnt about sleeping and how to help your baby learn to go to sleep. I went home and spent the rest of the week working on our new sleeping routine. By the end of that week, we were into a new phase. We now had a well fed and well rested baby, and we began to get somewhat of a normal existence back.

The night feeds for me were the hardest, what you could cope with during the day, just seemed to be a lot worse at night. I decided after about 4 weeks that I would drop the breast feed during the nights (10pm, 2.30am, and 5am) and only give her the bottle. This again became a lot easier for me and I started to feel a bit happier about being a Mum, and began to really start enjoying my time with her. It also meant that my fiancé could help with the feeding, and he happily gave her the last feed of the night so I could go to sleep.

My Mum said something funny once which I have always remembered, which was “your breasts are like a reservoir; once all the milk is drained it takes a long time to fill back up!” This was true as I began to realise that the only good feed she was getting from me was the first one in the morning. Soon after this I ended up giving up all breast feeds, except the very first one in the morning (about 6am) as this was the easiest and most pleasant to give her. She could get enough out of me to be satisfied (though she still needed topping up) and I enjoyed it as my breasts had a chance to recover during the next 24hrs. I continued this until week 8, when I finally decided that I was going to give up breast feeding altogether. This decision did not come easily though, as I knew once you stopped, that was it. However it proved to be one of the best decisions I have made, for me as a mother.

As a bottle feeding Mum (and parents) you are faced with random problems that a breast feeding mother is not faced with. One thing that really bothered me was people asking if they could feed her. She was still so small, and I didn’t really know what to say, so ended up saying yes, even though I didn’t really want to. I mean, no one would ask a breast feeding mother if they could feed the baby! So we made a rule that only my fiancé or I could feed her, as this to us was very important bonding time. Other things that people have said about bottle feeding that I don’t necessarily agree with is that you don’t bond as well as if you are breastfeeding – which is absolute rubbish! All you baby needs to know is that you love and care for them, and they can see that in your eyes when you are feeding them, regardless of whether it’s from breast or not!

Looking back I think about a few things that seem strange to me: If everyone knew that I couldn’t exclusively breast feed, why would I have to feed the baby with a syringe, knowing all along that I would have to top up with formula? Surely if the baby made the change between bottle and breast from day one, they wouldn’t know any different and therefore be able to make the change. To this day I still don’t know the answer to this, but I do know that my daughter never had any problems making the change between breast and bottle.

Whether or not you choose to bottle feed, or are forced to, you should never feel guilty about it. Remember the choice is yours and yours alone. The best advice I ever got was “if its right for you, then it’s the right thing to do”. I will never forget it and it applies to so many things, from how you choose to feed your baby, to where they sleep, what they wear and if they have a sucky or not! The point to remember is that, armed with the right information you can make an informed choice that works well for your new family unit. Lactation consultants are angels, and there are other places to go for help, like Plunket or your midwife or doctor. I am a regular caller to the plunket line and am so happy that they decided it was worth funding again! A happy bottle feeding mother is far better for a baby than a depressed breast feeding mother any day!

I now have a happy and very healthy 13 month old daughter, who is just an absolute charmer and has personality plus! She is our pride and joy and I really couldn’t imagine life without her. Writing this has taken me back to a time I would rather forget, but it’s important to share these stories and know that you aren’t alone in your feelings. I know that when it comes time for us to have another baby, I don’t think it will be nearly as hard at the beginning, as I have already decided that I’m not going to breast feed at all. I mean it’s not like I haven’t given it a try aye!

In November 1999 I had my first baby, a girl.  My pregnancy had been a dream right up until delivery. I delivered very fast and some placenta was left behind;  which caused considerable pain and infection for three weeks before it was discovered. 

I produced colostrum whilst still in the hospital but once home my milk never came in.  Whether this was due to still having some placenta I will never know.  My mother also never produced any milk and both my brother and I were bottle fed - but in the late 60’s it wasn’t unusual.

My baby was starving.  After a number of days with a crying, screaming baby and absolutely no sleep my midwife finally suggested that we try some formula.  We never looked back.  From that first bottle feed we had a happy, growing little girl who slept through the night at six weeks.

Feeding her at home was no problem (except having to get up and heat the milk during the night!) but taking her out was a mission.  I had to prepare two bottles at least in case she decided she wanted more than one, and getting bottles  heated was a problem.  Sometimes I would preheat it and put it in an insulated bag but I really didn’t like doing this.

I remember onc occasion when I was out with my daughter’s godmother who had come over from Melbourne - we had ordered fish and chips and were going to sit by the beach.  The man in the fish and chip shop wanted to charge me to heat my bottle!  I was fuming to say the least.  I went across the road to the Chinese takeaway shop and they (over) heated it with pleasure!

I always felt I was inconveniencing people when I asked for a bottle to be heated and that people were thinking ‘why isn’t she breastfeeding?’.  It made me feel that they thought I  hadn’t tried hard enough and was a failure.  It wasn’t my choice not to breastfeed – that was taken away from me.

In June 2002, I had my second baby, also a girl who was born at 32 weeks.  This in itself was very stressful, let alone also having a two year old at home. 

Due to her early delivery, the hospital staff were very keen to feed her with breastmilk and I struggled for six weeks, every four or so hours to get a very minimal amount of milk - including getting up in the night using a breastpump (when I should have been getting sleep to get me through the hours at the hospital).  My daughter was too little to have sucking reflexes and when she did (about four weeks later) I  just wasn’t producing enough milk.

Every day my daughter was weighed to check see if she was gaining weight.  Her weight gain was very slow  - the formula top-ups were hard on her premature baby’s tummy and she would bring up half her feed straight after having it.

On one occasion I rang at night to see how she was and what her weight was and was told that if I could provide her with more breastmilk she would be better off!  Well, that really upset me and made me feel like a failure once again. 

Once I brought my daughter home she had to be fed every two hours.  It would take one hour to feed her from the breast and bottle, (I gave up breastfeeding her pretty quickly after she came home due to lack of milk), then more time to burp her and then she would bring quite a bit of it back up and we would start the whole process over again.  This went on for about three months. 


With her being premature I didn’t venture out for those first three months so by the time I did I was pretty happy to be out and about.  I didn’t worry so much about the hassles of preparing bottles because I had already bottle fed one baby. It all seemed a lot easier second time around. I still wish I could have breastfed, especially for the convenience, but my babies and I still bonded during their feeding times.  Right up until they went off the bottle they always wanted to be cuddled while they had their milk.

It’s a shame that so much emphasis was put on breastfeeding and that there wasn’t much support for those of us who couldn’t do it.  I hope today that new mums are getting the support they need and don’t feel like a failure.

Breastfeeding came naturally right from the start for myself and my sons.  Latching on was never a problem, and they were happy and content after a feed, so I assumed I was going to be one of the few lucky ones where breastfeeding was not going to be a problem. 

My first son was diagnosed with a terminal illness (SMA) at six weeks so I chose to stop feeding him before I was forced to, which as it turned out was only a few weeks later when we had to tube feed him.  Looking back, I realise the emotions I felt were not only to do with grief but also the feelings associated with stopping breastfeeding. 

A year and a half later we were blessed with another son who is completely healthy and giving us immense joy and happiness.  As mentioned above, right from the start he latched on without a problem so I once again I assumed I was to be one of the lucky ones who wasn’t going to have any problems.  The first two weeks we had a dream baby that was extremely settled.  OK his days and nights were mixed up but he only cried for food and for a nappy change, and fell naturally into a perfect 4 hourly rhythm of sleep, feed, short play and then fell easily back to sleep.

At two weeks, everything suddenly changed.  We had an extremely unsettled baby in the evenings starting from around dinner time, that went through until one or two in the morning.  We knew he was tired and we did everything we could throughout the evening to get him to sleep, only to have him wake an hour later, until finally he stayed asleep at 1 or 2 am.  He would then sleep the morning and early afternoon away. We were told our baby had “woken up” and that it is quite normal for babies to have unsettled periods in the evenings and the sleeping in the morning was due to his time clock still being mixed up. 

When our son was six weeks old and we had exhausted all possibilities on how to solve his time clock problem and somehow surviving on four hours sleep a night, we finally figured out it was a food problem.  It was quite simple – I was running out of milk in the evenings.  This led to a vicious cycle of not getting enough sleep so I wasn’t able to make more, so the next night I was low again.  After the first evening top-up bottle at six weeks we had a totally different baby.  To start with I only needed to top him up every 3 or 4 days, but it turned out I wasn’t one of the lucky ones in this situation where your body compensates and 1 top up a day is all that is needed whilst you continue breastfeeding as I had hoped. Two weeks later my son was fully bottle fed – I couldn’t believe how fast my milk  went. Our son switched easily between bottle and breast, so as long as he got food he didn’t care from where.

The first couple of top up feeds were really emotional for me, not only because it coincided with having had to give up with my first son, but also because I felt like a failure as this was supposed to be such a “normal and natural process”.  A couple of those feeds were done with tears streaming down my face.  My husband couldn’t understand what the big deal was, as long as our son got fed he didn’t care how.  Don’t get me wrong, my husband is normally a very caring and understanding man.  I also had to work through the emotions that feeding was no longer going to be my one ‘sole-charge’ task, which I had prepared myself for all the way through pregnancy.

Luckily for me I have my mum and a close friend who understood the feelings I was going through, so I knew that what I was feeling was completely normal - I just didn’t realise how normal. My girlfriend has had two children and she was able to breastfeed happily until she chose to give up, but she had told me that no matter when you give up, most mums feel emotional and that what I was feeling was quite normal. 

(I’m now thinking that the emotions felt in each case are probably different it did help me at the time to hear that it was normal).
 
My Mum understood because the same thing happened to her (ie. running low on milk) with my older brother.  And then I came along and she would have been able to continue breastfeed me except my brother was very jealous and would hit her in the breast whilst I was feeding so once again she was forced to stop.  So mum reinforced what my girlfriend had said about the emotions being normal.

What would have been helpful in the antenatal classes for me is to learn not only about how “breast is best” and how to breastfeed (which we spent an incredible amount of time on) but to hear all the difficulties that are associated with it.  And by all I don’t just mean the latching on difficulties.  It would also be good to hear statistics on how many babies are bottle feed, at what ages and for what reasons.

All I can say is thank you for having the initiative to organise something like this if it means other mums in the future won’t have to face the same sort of guilt issues as I had.

1. Wellington Hospital seemed to have cleared up its processes for teaching breastfeeding and I was handled (emotionally and physically!) with respect.
2. It was quickly determined that I had very sensitive breasts (e.g. even hand expressing was causing them to bleed in the first week), and a plan was put in place to manage this.
3. I used a different lactation consultant, who approached the problem differently. She believes that if milk supply is plentiful this resolves many other problems. For example, if there is little milk, a hungry baby is likely to damage the nipple, but a baby who is getting enough milk will be more patient and is therefore more likely to learn to breastfeed faster. This was certainly the case for me.
4. It was determined that my milk had not come in and that I seemed to be missing the ‘hormonal switch’ which was needed to get this going. So I was prescribed Fenugreek (a natural remedy available from health food shops) and Domperidome (no, not champagne but a prescription drug which stimulates milk supply). This made all the difference to me and within a week, I was breastfeeding mostly without pain.

I didn't have a good experience breastfeeding my son.

He was born C-Section after a long labour and as any new mum I was exhausted. I had a few complications immediately after the birth so my son was given formula and I didn’t get to hold him for quite a few hours let alone feed him. Bad start, but I really wanted to succeed and give my son the best possible start so I tried and tried to feed him. My milk took nearly four days to arrive and he constantly screamed to be fed!

I had always hoped to breastfeed and thought it would be a painful and strange experience. I also expected it to be a bonding experience but instead I felt like a cow with udders that leaked at inappropriate times!!

My son was a big baby at 10lb 4oz and he was a very hungry boy! I could never fill him even after two hour feeds alternating breasts as the pain got unbearable. I never had enough milk for him and was forever making little bits of formula to top him up. Top ups were the worst advice I have ever been given...to top up after each breastfeed and your milk will eventually catch up. I now know that you have what you have and topping up will constantly make you be two steps behind because your baby is growing rapidly and always needs more! Alternating feeds breast and bottle was a much better way for us to feed. It stops your breast leaking, reduces time spent sterilizing and making bottles, and gives mum a bit of freedom back too!!

The other thing was that he screamed in pain with wind and let adult sized rippers go all day long (there is a funny side to everything I guess!). We had to pat his back constantly to get him to go to sleep. I though it was the formula top ups but it turned out to be my milk as I discovered later that stress can make your milk very windy amongst other things.

People kept telling me it would get easier but it never did. I cried a lot, didn’t sleep much, and ate terrible food because I was ravenous all the time with hunger! After four long months of getting up every few hours and feeding for two hours a time I gave him formula. It took about two weeks before things started to get better all round but it was only a few hours before his wind stopped.

He thrived and slept well after that and I felt so guilty that I had not trusted my instinct and instead, listened to so many people who had not even ever been in my position. It took me a good few months to feel like a good mother as society and the surrounding medical support all made me feel like I was not being a good mother by giving him formula!

I also think that this experience contributed to my post natal depression. I didn’t have much support here, my family is in UK. But I have a friend who was very confident in her decisions, and she was pro formula which was great. My mum came over for two months and she gave me the confidence to believe in my own decisions. I also called the PND helpline for all round support and they were amazing, they also gave me my belief in myself back. A superb group of people!

In hindsight, it was ridiculous and should have never been my first motherly experience so if I have any advice for 1st time mums it would be to listen to your instinct and if you still don’t know then do what makes you feel happy about yourself; because when you are happy your baby is happy and content and that is the best mother anyone can be! There is nothing at all wrong with formula feeding your child, and I personally believe that a combination is great for baby and mum.

I know when and if we do have more children in the future, I will believe in my own abilities and only use the advice that I want to!

Good luck to all the new mums out there, motherhood is a minefield but it is forever rewarding too!