Breastfeeding should be 100% comfortable and pleasant…unless you’ve got Raynaud’s phenomenon that is.

I feel great about breastfeeding now. Jack is six months old and feeding isn’t painful anymore. In fact I’d go so far as to say that enjoy it. We’ve come a long way from the pain and emotional torture of the first twelve weeks. I now feel hugely successful as a mother and in my quest to breastfeed.

I had a fantastic homebirth. Jack was breastfed immediately with some success. However, both Jack and I were transferred to hospital (he was “grunty” and I was fainting from blood loss). We stayed in hospital for six nights and returned home after receiving much “help” with breastfeeding. Jack’s latch still wasn’t comfortable and his lips were sucked in rather than feathered out like they should be. But – I was waiting for it to improve and expected that the pain was just because we were both new to this!

At three weeks I said to my midwife that I thought feeding was getting worse and more painful, not better as she had promised! Unfortunately she went on holiday for two weeks and things got worse. I was experiencing shooting pains and what felt like needles when I fed. We thought it could have been thrush and that could be causing the pain – so I gave the treatment a go for a few days. I didn’t notice any change so stopped using it. After a few days I knew it wasn’t thrush, but it was worth a shot. I was using the lanolin cream Lansinoh regularly over this period and continued to do so until about sixteen weeks.

I was told to watch out for mastitis and infections of my bruised and cut nipples. One side was better than the other and some days/feeds were better than the others. I started using a scale as to how much pain I was experiencing – 100% was best, 0% very painful. Mostly I was a 30% in my left breast and 50% in my right. I continued to use this as a measure for pain when describing it to others!

It was this time I visited the Plunket/Karitane Family Centre. This visit I felt “saved me”. The Lactation Consultant was just fantastic and very understanding. My first visit was when Jack was three and a half weeks. I burst into tears when we started talking about the pain and that I was feeling withdrawn from Jack because I didn’t want to feed. The exhaustion due to sleepless nights was taking their toll as well. She immediately assisted me to develop a plan and we went over how to latch properly. The ideal outcome was Happy Mum = Happy Baby = Happy Family. The plan was based on rapidly reducing my pain and our distress. If it was extremely painful and sore to feed then I had these options:
1) I’d express instead. I hired a hospital grade pump.
2) I would give Jack a feed replacement with formula.
3) Take pain relief at regular intervals.

I was to use this plan for one week and if things weren’t improving I could:
1) Consider stopping feeding on my sorest side (with support and advice)
2) Use formula

I needed this plan for my sanity and state of mind. My husband was a huge support and still at home with me (he was able to stay with us for six weeks). I also had my Mum and various friends and support groups who were great as well.

I couldn’t express milk, despite trying and getting 10mls in half an hour! So, I started replacing one “side” with formula when it was too painful or the latch was bad and hurting me. I cried when giving him formula as I felt like a failure.

I investigated one-sided breastfeeding via La Leche League, heartened that it could be done successfully.

Jack was putting on weight and flourishing. Me. Well, my moods were feed-dependant. I was feeling bad one day and ok the next.

I visited the Lactation Consultant again two weeks later. I had been getting reasonable latches when feeding, so we knew that wasn’t an issue any longer. My nipples continued to be painful and feeding was a challenge. I continued supplementing with formula on that one side. I was still feeling down and not connecting fully to Jack as I had expected to. I felt I had to make a choice. Could I handle the pain? Should I start formula feeding completely? Should I single side feed? I’m stubborn I guess and kept going despite feeling increasingly like I was failing miserably.

Throughout this time, we were selling our home which was incredibly stressful and in hindsight a crazy time to do this! I was still finding things tough and ended up being diagnosed with Post Natal Depression.

On my third visit to the Lactation Consultant (Jack was seven weeks old) she was watching me feed again and noticed that my nipple was white when Jack pulled off. I had noticed this for some time but thought nothing of it. She had a huge “ah ha” moment and rushed to get a book. It was at that moment that she diagnosed nipple vasospasm.

I had never heard of this, although I have bad circulation in my hands and feet. I started wrapping up warm, woollen singlets were the fashion for me in the middle of summer! I was given some merino wool breast pads that I wore all the time and used wheat bags constantly. The warmth did relieve the pain somewhat but I still felt pain as I still had injured nipples. I was advised to speak to my Dr. about a drug called Nifedipine to assist with the pain associated with Raynaud’s phenomenon. Despite my Lactation Consultant having seen great results from other women using this drug, my Doctor didn’t feel comfortable prescribing it to me while I was breastfeeding. I immediately started researching Raynaud’s on the internet and found some self warming pads (mastitis pads) available in Australia that I planned to order to relieve the pain.

I was still supplementing some feeds (not all) with formula successfully. When Jack was twelve weeks old we turned a corner. Our house sold and we moved into a great place. Psychologically, I was doing better and physically the pain was disappearing. By sixteen weeks the pain had gone.

I now realise that the pain I experienced wasn’t due to something I was doing wrong or incorrectly, nor was it an infection or latch issue. The pain was most certainly caused both by the injuries to my nipple in the early weeks and then by exposure to cold and Raynaud’s.

Now, I look back with pride. I haven’t forgotten the mental anguish, but I have forgotten much of the physical pain associated with feeding. It was a tough time and I feel now that I didn’t have the chance to develop a deep love for Jack when I was trying to breastfeed him. It used to worry me that I’d never feel a real bond with him. I was totally consumed by the feeding and its associated pain. At sixteen weeks I gradually started to enjoy and love Jack and feeding him was included in that! He’s a great little boy we love to bits.

At a basic level I now believe we should try and achieve the following: Happy Mum = Happy Baby = Happy Family. If that means formula feeding then so be it. This will be my mantra for the next baby.

My son Thomas was born four weeks early on the 22nd December, 2006 as a small but perfect package. However, he was hyperglycaemic so we went onto the maternity ward at the hospital so he could be monitored overnight. At four weeks early he was not very good at suckling and breastfeeding was challenging from the start. The delivery midwife managed to get him suckling on the breast straight away, which looked really promising. This did not last. The next day he could not latch on and looked like he may need a nasal gastric tube to maintain his blood sugar levels. We ended up giving him hand expressed colostrum via a syringe. Thomas just would not latch on and feeding times gradually became a battle ground. I would have a nurse on one side and a midwife on the other trying to get a screaming Thomas onto the breast. After 10-15 minutes of trying we would relent and give him a bottle of expressed breast milk and formula top up. I had a different midwife every day and they all had their own techniques and opinions on breastfeeding. This became incredibly stressful and basically meant that all my interactions with my son were fraught and negative. I had a pretty realistic picture of the difficulties around breastfeeding through ante-natal classes and conversations with other mums so I expected it to be hard. However, nothing prepared me for this scenario or for the pressure on me to breastfeed, not just from external sources but also from myself. I was determined to do it if I could!

We carried this pattern on for six days in hospital. Around the fourth day I accepted that I was unlikely to be able to breastfeed Thomas so resigned to expressing and bottle feeding for at least the first three months. I was really unhappy that I may not be able to breastfeed Thomas but realised that it was more important that he was getting what he needed and we bonded in a positive, nurturing way We decided on three months as it gave him a really good start and was a realistic timeframe for me as expressing after every feed was time-consuming and exhausting.

I finally went home with the fabulous medela ‘symphony’ breast pump, and numerous ice cube trays under my arm. My lovely post-natal midwife (a lactation consultant) arrived the next morning and I again explained the situation. She sat me down with numerous pillows, stripped off Thomas and talked me through it calmly. Thomas latched on in the football position on the third try and had a full feed of both breasts for the first time. It took us a couple of days to perfect it but after 3 days he was feeding well off both breasts.

Until….3 weeks later on a Thursday morning when Thomas again refused to latch on. After floods of tears from both mother and son, we gave him a bottle of expressed breast milk and called the midwife – even she could not get him on! The midwife recommended trying nipple shields and issued the following instructions - at every feed I had to try to get him on without the shields for 10 minutes, then try with the shields for 10 minutes and if he did not go on give him a bottle of expressed breast milk. The next day he went on successfully with the nipple shields three out of eight feeds. On the third day he went on without shields for one out of eight feeds and within five days he was back on the breast without nipple shields.

During this time I was an emotional mess. I really enjoyed breastfeeding Thomas. I felt guilty and was totally devastated to think that I may never be able to feed him again. A number of strategies got me through. One was an incredibly supportive partner and post-natal midwife who backed me 100% and helped me to find solutions when I couldn’t see any. We went right back to the basics of breastfeeding - doing skin on skin with Thomas, using numerous pillows, different positions and feeding in a quiet, calm environment. We also made a deadline that if Thomas was not back on the breast within seven days then we would wean him. These techniques came in very handy when three weeks later (on a Thursday morning) Thomas again refused to latch on. We used the same techniques as before and within 5 days he was back on full time and has never looked back.

Thomas is now 8 1/2 months and is still breastfed. I am amazed that we got this far. I did feel a lot of pressure to breastfeed Thomas but that was nothing compared to the pressure I put on myself. I gave myself a really hard time and blamed myself if it was not working. My partner came up with some key mantras that got us through. Thomas was our child and we were in charge of deciding how he was fed - we were in favour of anything that worked. As long as Thomas was happy, healthy and gaining weight (and sleeping!) it did not matter how he got his milk. My family and numerous sisters were was an invaluable source of support and reassurance as were my coffee group.

 

My first thought about breastfeeding was negative. When I was 32, my husband and I (after 12 years of being happily married) decided that it was time to have a baby. It was more a business decision than an emotional one. Neither of us had ever been ‘clucky’ or even really desired to have a family but as time progressed, we realised how sad it would be not to have a family. So once we found out I was pregnant we had a lot of learning and preparation to do.

I understood and appreciated the benefits of breastfeeding. However, I had a couple of friends who had chosen to bottle-feed their babies for personal reasons and convenience. I talked about it with them and also my other friends who were breastfeeding. Personally, I felt very uncomfortable at the thought of a baby hanging on to my breast. When this was discussed in my antenatal class I still felt apprehensive. But I hadn’t decided not to breastfeed. I thought I would just see how I feel at the time.

To my surprise my little boy arrived five weeks early. I’d spent my whole pregnancy in disbelief of what was happening and suddenly there he was. I had chosen to have a water birth at Birthcare, but obviously that was not to be. I had a quick labour and got to hold my baby briefly before he was taken away to NICU in an incubator.

I didn’t feel attached to my baby straight away and it didn’t help that he was in NICU. He was healthy, though he needed support with breathing, as his lungs weren’t properly developed. It felt surreal. He wasn’t able to suck straight away so I had to express colostrum into a syringe for him, which he was then fed through a tube. This was extremely painful and emotional. I had to squeeze my breasts harder than I ever believed possible, for about half an hour just to get one millilitre of colostrum! I was devastated at the result for the amount of pain it caused. And all of a sudden my breasts were public property too. Every nurse and midwife would be poking, prodding and squeezing. It was terrible! What a way to start! I kept persisting though, because as difficult as it was, it wasn’t about me anymore; it was all about my little boy. And I had to do everything I could to help him.

Thankfully, I had great support from my husband and my family and they helped me through. Although I did feel rather lost during this time. I really had no idea what I was doing or meant to be doing, but I couldn’t think clearly enough to ask the right questions or make sense of what I was being told. “What on earth is going on? Why was he born so early? Is he ok? Why does he have all of those tubes and wires stuck to his tiny body? Why is he sleeping so much? How long are we going to be in hospital? Why can I only express such a tiny amount? Is that enough? Surely not? Why can’t I hold him? Why can’t I take him home? Why can’t my husband stay with me? Everything hurts! I can’t do this on my own! Why is this happening to me?” All of these thoughts were just a big blur of emotions and I didn’t know how to deal with them. Although I was given a leaflet about premature babies and had lots of advice, it didn’t really help. Everything was so unfamiliar.

After two days I got to hold him properly for the first time. I cried. Our bonding had started. A day later I attempted to breastfeed. I was surprised how awkward it felt, trying to get him in the right position while trying to get comfortable myself (as I had had an episiotomy). He would start sucking without latching on and we had to teach him to open his mouth first. I didn’t realise how difficult this was going to be. I had some nurses showing me one way, and others showing me another way. Some were quite forceful and grabbing my breasts while others just sat back and left me to it. I was given a nipple shield by one midwife and then was told not to use it by another. The lactating consultant then gave different advice. I felt so confused and frustrated. Nothing seemed to work. Though as our bond grew, I became more determined. I didn’t sleep in the same room as my baby, so I got the nurses to wake me up every time he woke and we would try again. We just kept persisting and eventually I started feeling confident enough to do it my own way, and I actually got a bit stroppy with some of the midwives that may have suggested otherwise. I was going to use the nipple shield whether they liked it or not! It was easier for my baby to latch on to and it was less painful for me. Surely coping with support is better than not coping at all?!

My baby was in hospital for nine days. I managed to stay with him the whole time (luckily), desperately trying to breastfeed; constantly trying different ways and means of getting him to latch on properly. I was exhausted from so many unsuccessful attempts, though as the days passed he started to get the idea. He also started to gain some weight. It was such a great feeling. I still can’t believe that the hospital sends some Mums home while their babies are still in NICU. It’s so cruel.

The day we went home was wonderful. Suddenly he was mine. I didn’t have to share him with everyone anymore. It was just my husband and I. I felt so much more comfortable and relaxed. However, the next few weeks weren’t easy. My baby had made good progress with latching on but was still inconsistent. I took very detailed notes about every feeding session so I could remember what he was doing. Sometimes he would latch on beautifully but most times not – often taking up to an hour just to latch on. Sometimes he would drink for 15 minutes and other times one or two – and then we would start all over again. Often he was too sleepy to even try. I continued to use a nipple shield but then he would sometimes do better without it. I had hired a breast pump on recommendation from the lactating consultant to keep the milk flowing, but I struggled with expressing as well as doing everything else. Thankfully my own midwife suggested I focus on coping myself, rather than doing everything by the book. Unfortunately though, after being home for a few days, my baby hadn’t gained any weight. This was so disheartening when I was doing everything I possibly could, and more. I was emotionally and physically exhausted and desperate.

My midwife suggested I go to the Plunket Family Centre. They were great support and I had a lovely rest too, but even with their help my baby still didn’t latch on properly. At home again, I just kept persisting and after about six weeks he got it sorted. It just took time. One evening whilst breastfeeding my husband said to me, “Isn’t it great that he’s feeding properly now.” It was such a slow and gradual change that I hadn’t actually appreciated my baby’s achievements. It took a couple more months before he had mastered the art of breastfeeding and for me to feel confident enough not to record every little detail.

What a journey! It’s a rough ride to start with, but well worth it. I decided to continue breastfeeding until my baby was one year old and it was a sad day when it came round. Breastfeeding had become such a lovely time, a special part of the day that we both enjoyed – the closeness, the security and the knowledge that I was providing for my baby. I look back at my decision and am so pleased that I was able to give my baby such a great start. I’m disappointed though; that the information I received through the antenatal class and some of the midwives was biased and unrealistic. They didn’t say that it could be a struggle, or that it could hurt, or that I could be so exhausted I may find it difficult to cope. They didn’t discuss the possibility of not being able to breastfeed at all even if you wanted to. I think they need to prepare parents for all possibilities and give them all of the options so they can make informed decisions. However, we are lucky enough to be one of the success stories and I will definitely breastfeed again, if at all possible.

I have two beautiful children, boys, four years old and one year old. I had every intention of breastfeeding both of them right from day one.

With my first son, I remember worrying about breastfeeding a little bit before he was born but I very much expected it to come "naturally". I assumed breastfeeding would just happen with very little practice - how wrong was I! I was a lot more aware of how hard it would be the second time around, but I still needed support to ensure he was latching on correctly and that my technique was OK.

I think longer hospital stays in a comfortable, supportive environment would go a long way to helping more woman breastfeed. I transferred to Kenepuru and Paraparaumu Hospitals after labouring and birthing at Wellington Women’s Hospital. This was definitely a good choice to make for me and my boys. I stayed in for three days after the birth of both boys and had brilliant help and support while I was there.  (I believe there are some groups pressuring the DHB and Ministry of Health to set up a similar system to what Auckland has where you transfer to a private facility after you have your baby. I think you get the first night free and then you pay after that. I'm sure something similar would be most welcome in Wellington.)

What the extra time in hospital meant, was that when I left, breastfeeding was well established and I felt confident (for the most part) I could continue on my own. Once I got home, the great support of my midwife was crucial. She was a lactation consultant as well as a midwife and I had complete faith in her. I think if it wasn’t for her, I would have given up in the first week.

I felt absolutely miserable when my milk first came in. My breasts were huge and hot. It hurt to lift my arms above my head and when they were by my side I felt I had to hold them out so they didn't knock my breasts. They were so full that I had to express off milk before he could latch on and I could feed him properly.

I didn't have any problems with breastfeeding as such, but it did come as a real shock to me when it hurt and also when I realised that it was something that didn't necessarily come naturally or with ease. My mantra is that you need to persevere and practice, practice, practice! What kept me going through the pain were my perseverance and the hope that it would get easier - which it did.

I started back at work when both of my babies were around four months. I mixed fed (formula and breast) until they were six months old, when I weaned them off breastfeeding. I also expressed and bottle fed with breast milk.

My youngest boy practically weaned himself off; as once he got a taste for a bottle he wasn't interested in breastfeeding. In fact he would cry if I tried. I would have probably continued to mix feed for a while longer but when he began to show a clear preference for bottle over breast I didn't see the point.

I guess I was lucky in that I had a reasonably positive breast-feeding experience although I can't say it was something I particularly enjoyed. It is really difficult to articulate why I didn’t enjoy it – maybe not being able to share feeding – that the pressure was always on me.
I was very lucky that both my sons latched well and were generally good feeders. I didn't develop any problems myself other than the initial pain of sore nipples.

I encourage mums to get their babies used to bottles early on - it can save a lot of grief later and give you a bit more independence. I think woman should do what is works for them and their babies. There is absolutely no point in persevering if everyone is suffering. In saying that, I have done a double-take when I've seen very young babies being bottle-fed. I know I shouldn't, but it does come as a surprise when I've come across it.

My personal point of view is that women should be supported in their choice - whatever that maybe. Breast is clearly best... but it doesn’t always work out for Mums and babies!

Our son was born on Waitangi day this year. I had a smooth pregnancy and from the get go I hoped that I'd have a quick trouble free labour (like my mother did) and that breastfeeding would be a wonderful experience - probably not easy - but I never imagined I would have the issues that I did.

I had been to the two night breastfeeding seminar at the hospital while pregnant and I guess the only thing I thought would be difficult would be the latching and so I paid special attention to that not realizing that low milk supply was going to be my problem.

I ended up having an emergency Caesarean Section after seven or so hours labour.My little boy turned semi posterior and on an odd angle. He just wouldn't budge despite best attempts to move him out from under my pelvis! That put paid to my plans of a 'natural' birth but I didn't suffer any guilt about that, in the end I just wanted him safe and in my arms.

I spent just over three days in hospital, colostrum came in fine but I just had this funny feeling about my milk. I never had that engorged feeling or any let down and my baby just seemed so unsettled (I was told that not all women have feelings of let down and engorgement). It's a bit of a blur now but I remember him constantly being at the breast and despite that he still seemed so unsettled, he wouldn't sleep for anything more than what felt like 5 minutes. t wasn't until night number threethat one very kind hospital midwife gave me a 50ml bottle of formula just after midnight and straight after that my baby fell asleep! Apparently they won't offer you formula in hospital – you have to ask for it. Well I didn't ask for it but I was mighty glad someone offered it! I was told that my milk might be delayed a little due to the Caesarean Section so I figured that once I got home within a few days things would kick in.

Well they didn't.

My baby left hospital just over 10% lighter than his birth weight – born 9pd 15 so he was still a BIG baby when we left! The hospital paediatrician wasn't happy about us going home, there is a rule at the hospital about not recommending babies go home if they have lost more than 10% of body weight. My midwife thought it best for me and baby to be home where we could relax and get in to the swing of feeding without the stress of being in a hospital environment. Feeding at this point was not established well but being home was a huge factor in improving this. My midwife fought for me and off we went, day three baby blues had set in and I just wanted out of there!

My midwife and I set about a plan to try and breastfeed and express as frequently as possible to stimulate and encourage flow of milk. The days in these early weeks were LONG. I was feeding three hourly if not ore. Feeds took between 40 and 60 minutes, followed by a top up of formula 50-100mls, followed by 40 minutes expressing. In those first couple of weeks expressing only yielded between 15-40mls. Feeding was made extra awkward for a few days where I tried using various Lactaids (tube feeding devices) to encourage my baby to suckle. These devices I found really tricky and messy.

The urates in my baby’s nappies quickly became less (I had noticed these stains in his nappies while in hospital but nobody told me that they were a sign of dehydration).

So many times in those first two weeks I thought about giving breastfeeding the boot. But whenever I had these thoughts I would feel racked with guilt. It was absolutely heartbreaking for me that I didn't have enough breastmilk to feed my baby. The feeding and expressing cycle was exhaustive and I just never felt like I knew if he was getting enough. I was watching his weight gain and his nappies like a hawk as they were my only indicators that things were going well.

The first three weeks were the hardest. Day 15 came when I got the courage to say 'no more' and actually stopped breastfeeding for almost a whole day. Two things happened that inspired me to keep going. The first was the complete change in my little mans bowel movements. Almost instaneously he went from runny explosive mustard breastmilk poo to a hard grayish type poo. The second thing was that my breasts ACHED and were engorged for the first time! I expressed 80mls in 15 mins at the end of that day which was amazing to me. I realized that maybe things were improving and so I persevered On day 11 I’d been introduced to a wonder drug (in my opinion) called Domperidone (Dom Perignon is how I remember the name of it!) which had obviously taken a few days to kick in. My midwife suggested it as a last resort as she could see my patience with breastfeeding was wearing thin. It is a drug they use to treat nausea but one of its side effects is that it makes women lactate. Strange but true! I felt great- the battle was over! It could have gone either way, just finding a solution that worked was fantastic. If it had meant stopping breastfeeding then that's fine too; it just so happened that Domperidone is what worked for me.

I stopped taking Domperidone when my little man was eight and half months old, and my milk supply is still good.  I still give him one top up in the evening of 50-100mls. For some reason I have never been able to give the formula up completely – that and the Domperidone have been my saviours (not to mention the great team of midwives I had and of course my family!).

I look back on those early weeks (week five and six were when I finally felt like things were coming together) and when I come to do it all again I will have the knowledge that the really tough days don't last and that breastfeeding is worth peservering for IF I can.

Even though things turned out ok in the end whenever I thought about putting my baby on the bottle, finding the support and relevant information wasn't easy. The material out there that pushes breastfeeding should be re-written so that it doesn't force such huge amounts of guilt on those mums that decide to formula feed their babies. Like I got told again and again - 'Do whatever is necessary to ensure a happy mum and baby'. Breast or bottle, either is fine – or in my case it was a bit of both that worked for us!

I suffered three miscarriages in the late 1960's before being able to carry my first son full term and have a normal, three and a half hour labour and text book delivery with no complications, stitches or anything out of the ordinary, in 1970.

At last I had succeeded!

After my miscarriages I had felt I was a failure as a woman. I could get pregnant easily enough but I hadn't been able to carry full term. With my son’s birth, that had changed. At last I felt like a complete woman and looked forward to breast feeding my little man.

Almost as soon as my milk started to come in, I wondered what I had let myself in for. Dolly Parton, whom I loved, had nothing on me, and I had not had surgery! My breasts were enormous coming straight out from my shoulders; I couldn’t even feel my collar bones. I had a nurse each side massaging them for ten minutes before each feed, trying to get rid of the lumps. They expressed milk off before giving my son his feed which in itself was a painful process as my breasts were too full for him to latch on properly.

They expressed again afterwards. I had what one of the nurses described as the worst case of mastitis she had ever seen. Hot oil packs were applied several times a day to try to get rid of the lumps. I was very sore, felt fluey and started to run a temperature. The nurses suggested I bottle feed instead of continuing to try and breastfeed, but I was convinced if I just persevered, it would come right. Anyway, everyone knew it was better for mothers to breast feed, and I had always planned to do just that. My Mother had been able to provide extra milk for premature twins while beast feeding my younger sister so maybe I just had too much and it needed time to settle down.

Within a few days I was running a temperature of 104 and the nurses were soaking towels in cold water to put over my naked body to try to get my temperature down. The Specialist came to see me that night and told me if I did not agree to suppress my milk by morning, he would have nothing more to do with me! It was only then that I realised my experience was not entirely normal and I was obviously in a more serious condition than I thought. I guessed the specialist knew more than I did so took his advice and had the injection to suppress my milk. I was bound and once again had those awful feelings of failure.

I did a lot of crying but started to bottle feed my son, who of course thrived. His jaundice cleared up and after ten days in hospital, I was able to take him home. If others mentioned the fact that I was bottle feeding, I felt I had to explain and give them all the details almost to prove I had wanted to breastfeed but had not been able to.

I had my second son two years and ten days later. Breastfeeding was not such a problem this time except I had to be careful and wrap up warmly when going outside as any little breeze brought on those fluey feelings, and lumps, signs of the beginnings of mastitis again.

Then my perfect little world fell apart! My husband, whom I adored, left us when our son was just six weeks old. This was totally unexpected; I had not seen it coming and thought he was as happy as I was. My body went into shock and my milk dried up in under a week - I think it was just four days! Suddenly I was having to bottle feed again which was devastating for me. Everything had been going so well this time and I had found that breastfeeding was something I really enjoyed.

I feel incredibly lucky as I was able to breastfeed my four babies that followed, watching out for those cold breezes and keeping my chest warm when outside.
If you have problems with one, it does not necessarily follow that you will have problems with all. I breastfed my last daughter until she was three years old and we have a very strong bond.

I personally found breastfeeding a very relaxing time, once I got it right. I had to sit down for a while which was a blessing having five older children as well. I enjoyed holding my baby close and I am sure it helped me get my figure back to something resembling reasonable sooner rather than later. In saying that however, I also found the exact same benefits when bottle feeding my first two babies. I never propped the bottle, even when the baby was capable of holding it, preferring to have that time of sitting and holding my baby close.

My daughters and daughters-in-law have all started breastfeeding with some being more successful than others. Some were able to breastfeed for only a few months, others for much longer. I have never criticised their decisions on how long they breastfed although I still feel the longer you are able to, the better it is for the baby. Being bottle fed makes it easier for me to babysit though, so who am I to complain?

I had my daughter Sienna 4 months ago and have been able to successfully breastfeed and am still doing so, but boy I agree, it's a battle! I feel truly lucky to be able to do so as most of the women I knew before I had her had been unable to for one reason and another and now I'm over the major hurdles, it's the easiest thing in the world. When I was about to give birth to her, one of my other friends who hadn't been able to breastfeed her daughter said that her only piece of advice was not to get too strung out about the breastfeeding and that, although there was a lot of pressure to do so, not to worry if it didn't work out as formula is pretty much just as good in the long run.

I was lucky that my daughter was a good feeder from day one even if her Mum didn't know what she was doing!! I was also lucky that I had a C-section so was in hospital for five days where the midwives help and correct the latch-on etc. (even if they each told me different things and criticised each other's methods!) It still took me time once I got t home and had the visiting midwife make corrections for me to get it right (I thought feeding for one hour on each side was a good thing - seems Sienna wasn't latched on properly and couldn't feed well!) and, as I'm sure you're all aware your nipples become red raw and excruciating if you don't get it right (Purelan is a god send!). It's incredibly annoying to try following instructions only to find that you're not getting it right. There's not enough info (even written) with regard to the fact that you have to count the timing of feedings from the start of the feed etc and a lot of the info goes against common sense - something that can become very frustrating when you're sleep deprived. You think you're doing it right only to have the midwife bring something else into the equation - Arrrgh!

If I'd had Sienna naturally and been sent home on the same day, I'm sure the experience would have been a lot worse. I'm also lucky in that I'm a very laid back person with a high pain tolerance and a very chilled out baby. I found the whole experience incredibly frustrating (especially in the middle of the night when you've had no sleep) and can only imagine that anyone with more of an excitable personality would be beside themselves with frustration and worry which would only compound the whole problem.

Sienna had difficulty getting back up to her birth weight at the beginning and I had 36 hours to get her weight up before they were going to have to put her on formula (something I was strongly trying to avoid). I was feeding her every 2 hours and expressing after every feed - so basically awake for the entire time. It paid off, though, as she put on over 150g and I could continue with solely breast. It was tough, but worth it.

I have told many people (and remember friends telling me years ago) that beginning breastfeeding is one of the worst aspects of being a first time Mother but I think that there is not enough "hands on" help to breastfeed (you can watch all the videos you like but it doesn't really help in the practical sense) and far too much pressure to do so anyway meaning that some Mother's are made to feel like failures if they are unable to breastfeed for whatever reason. Look at me, Sienna had no problems - what if she had reflux or didn't want to feed, it would have been a disaster!

I also feel, in general, that the information given out regarding childbirth by midwives and antenatal classes is too soft. We are constantly told that it's the most wonderful, awesome natural experience etc. Quite honestly, anyone who's been there knows that it's horrendous, painful and traumatic. I'm not saying it's not worth it because I absolutely adore my little girl and would go through it all again in a heartbeat for her, but I would have appreciated some raw, hard truth (or is that just me...). People have counselling for plastic surgery for goodness sake!! We live in an age where we are quite pampered and spoilt where even a head-cold sends us off to bed with painkillers feeling sorry for ourselves. But with childbirth we are expected to just get on with it because it's a natural thing. The obstetrician congratulated me on how cool I was during Sienna's birth. What was I supposed to do? I smiled, made all the right noises and let them cut me open when it didn't go well. I didn't have any control. I think, though, that it might just be a pride thing because (even though I truly had no pain after the c-section) once I got home I had a good cry about the whole experience - I felt much better after that.

I also worried in the first while about bonding with Sienna. I mean, sure I was looking after my daughter but I can't honestly say whether it was out of a blinding love for her or whether I was just on auto-pilot at that time. I'm sure it's something that grows (I'm completely in love with her now) but again, this isn't something that's discussed beforehand and I can't imagine how guilty I would feel if I couldn't breastfeed (it's not a logical emotion). I had a weird experience last Saturday sitting in the hair dressers. We were discussing babies and childbirth and as I was talking I was aware (for the first time in my big-mouthed life) of not wanting to say too much about my experience as the hairdresser and colleagues hadn't had children - that it wouldn't be "proper" somehow to divulge the sordid details. I did, however, express the fact that it is beyond painful. The hairdresser scoffed and said "Well, if it was that bad, no one would want to do it again...." I just looked at her in the mirror and said "Hey, don't kid yourself....." and left it at that. I know, though, that I would do it again because the rewards after the fact are worth it. I just think there's not enough real info out there for those of us that like to know the truth (and all it's horror) before we engage in something. Is it just because there is no option but to go through it so it's deemed better not to know?

Ryan was born a healthy 8 pounds 12 ounces with lots of chubby baby fat and a head of blond hair.  We decided not to stay in hospital and left 5 hours after he was born. As No.2 baby we felt we were experienced and wanted our 20 month old little girl, Taylor, to feel part of the bonding process.  Our original midwife could not be at the birth due to ill health, so midwife B took over the birthing process and the first few weeks.

I found breastfeeding harder than I remembered and Ryan fed every hour or so. Midwife B was great at offering advice and suggested I sleep when I can, take a natural tonic to increase milk supply from the health shop and to take Floridic tonic from the supermarket.

Ryan stopped pooing after the third day, and did not poo again for nearly ten days, but midwife B said this is fine, some babies are like that, and as long as he has wet nappies there’s no problem. I commented that Ryan’s nappies were not always wet but usually damp.

When midwife B was there breastfeeding seemed so much easier. She was very hands on, and would grab a handful of breast and relatch Ryan until he was on correctly. I could feel the difference.  I tried to recreate this once she had gone and it was so hard and I was so tired. Ryan seemed insatiable.  Ryan lost a lot of weight in those first few weeks. Midwife B was worried, but advised that it was normal and he should start gaining soon.  At times when I could not see midwife B, or speak with her on the phone, another two midwifes from the same group got involved. Midwife C came around a couple of times and gave advice, and then one night Ryan was so hungry and I was so sore, that midwife D said he was obviously not feeding well enough and to get milk into him any way I could, by spoon or syringe. She also warned me that he would fall asleep and wake about an hour later ravenous, as his blood sugar levels had dropped. She was right and he fed well before dropping off into an exhausted sleep – me too… 

Numerous times I commented on how thin Ryan had become:  “look at his bottom, it is all saggy, he looks like an Ethiopian refugee”, and I was told it was quite normal to lose weight. He looked so thin to me - the skin on his arms and legs was sagging.  Midwife B knew he was feeding for over an hour and my nipples were sore, so she helped me make donuts out of tissue to ease the pain when I wasn’t feeding. She told me to take him off after 40 minutes as he was being a greedy boy. When I said he cried and cried when I took him off and put him to bed, she suggested I have a shower and he should settle. I tried this but it was so hard, all he wanted was me and he would cry a lot of the time.  I remember putting him down asleep after being on the breast, and creeping away, he would open his eyes and he would just stare.  I could just cry, and often did, howling in the shower…

I was so incredibly tired and fed up, I decided to use the dummy and this helped him settle.  Midwife B seemed pleased that he had made a small gain in his weight, and at 5 weeks she handed me back over to my original midwife. Unfortunately midwife A, did not seem experienced with the feeding and when I phoned to leave her a message to phone, it was always midwife C or D who returned my calls.

Ryan finally seemed to be getting more content and sleeping longer. Midwife A & D told me to wake him to feed every three hours, but sometimes I was so exhausted that I slept through the alarm. We both slept soundly. Things finally seemed to be getting easier and I could see light at the end of the tunnel.

I had my first Plunket visit when Ryan was five weeks.  This surprised me because Midwife B had said she would not hand him over to Plunket yet because the midwives knew best.  When the Plunket nurse came, her first comment was ” Wow, I have never seen a baby with a neck before, he is a weeny boy” I agreed that he was so skinny and he was born so fat!  She weighed him and was shocked to see he was nearly a kilo underweight for his age. She said that he had the face of an old man, all lines and worry. She strongly suggested we start supplementing Ryan with formula to give him a boost.  This was on the Wednesday, Ryan took to the bottle hungrily. 

On Thursday Ryan started to refuse breastfeeding, he refused to go on the left side. Midwife A saw me on Friday morning and said to keep up with the tonics, get some more sleep and continue supplementing.   Late on Friday Ryan refused to go on the right breast, he would scream and arch his body away from me.
On Saturday morning Ryan refused formula, he only took about ten mls in four hours. I began to panic. I phoned midwife A, who advised me to ring a lactation consultant who may see me that day.   I phoned Cheryl Ganly-Lewis and she was able to come and see me about 1.5 hours later.

Cheryl was shocked at Ryan’s condition.  She had me express and she told me that my milk levels must have dropped considerably, because over that whole day we only managed to express 150mls. The next 72 hours were going to be tough so she suggested my daughter be looked after, and we get milk into Ryan any way we could - using syringe, cup or spoon and as a last resort the bottle.  I had to monitor every drop of liquid into him and every nappy, Cheryl felt that the main cause of him dropping breastfeeding was him being given formula feeds because he preferred the speed of his feed from a bottle.

Much later, Cheryl admitted Ryan’s body had been shutting down, that he was in a really bad way.  Because she could see how committed my husband and I were about breastfeeding, she gave us 12 hours and if we could get food into him, she would not hospitalise him. She knew if he was hospitalised he would never be breastfed again. Cheryl was also concerned that Ryan made a little clicking noise when he bottle or breastfed, or when he suckled on her finger. She organised for us to see the paediatrician on Monday at the hospital.

That night, Cheryl had me take Ryan to the emergency doctor in case he was suffering from earache or a sore throat, which was affecting his feeding. Ryan had a slight sore throat but nothing of great concern.  The next few days were incredibly hard, but worth it in the long run.

I was feeding and expressing three hourly. My body soon adapted and I seemed to fall asleep before my head even hit the pillow.  My husband cooked and cleaned and gave me hugs when I cried from frustration and exhaustion.

The paediatrician who saw Ryan felt that his problems stemmed from him having such a tiny rosebud mouth, a slightly recessed chin, and me having nipples that are larger than normal.  All this was combining to cause his severe weight loss as he was not latching properly.

Cheryl also arranged for us to see a speech language therapist who specialises in babies, and also a neuro-developmental therapist. They all gave him a clean bill of health. I began seeing a cranial osteopath, She felt that Ryan had issues with his jaw and perhaps was suffering discomfort when he fed. Ryan began to respond slowly.

Cheryl prescribed domperidone to increase my milk supply and I finally felt positive. After a couple of days I had lashings of milk, and the freezer was being filled. We reintroduced breastfeeding, trying different positions. Ryan seemed to fuss on the left, and I always offered this breast first… the right was better.

We introduced a ‘supplementer’. This is a special bottle of breastmilk or formula hung around my neck and two fine tubes come out the bottom. I needed to tape one to my nipple and areola and when he latches on, the fine tube is in his mouth.  When he sucked he drew milk down the tube at the same time, so he got extra milk. It was designed to keep him at the breast.  God I hated it…he latched properly then the tube was out of his mouth, or the tube was in, he was not latched properly…aaarghh.  But I soon got the hang of it, and I found it helped Ryan stay at the breast. As he came on I squeezed the bottle with one hand, and he would get a big squirt of milk.. yay!

The feeding was incredibly hard on my daughter who would be popped in front of the TV whilst I fed Ryan. She would often cry when I got out the pumps, as she knew I would still be stuck on the couch again.  I could see Ryan’s progress and soon he was weeing every nappy and pooing a couple of times a day. Ryan was a different baby, contented, gurgling and sleeping a lot better.

The support I had from Cheryl, my husband, family and friends was amazing.  It was hard to hear advice from the older generation to ’just put him on formula’. I understood that this was the easiest option, but it was not an option for me - I would fight to get him back on the breast. I knew my milk was best for him, that it would adjust to Ryan’s specific needs and would help prevent allergies.  I was soon expressing enough milk to stop giving Ryan any formula.

We had one big setback when Ryan was 11 weeks old.  Ryan and I got flu, we suffered high temperatures and this affected Ryan’s ability to feed.  I was aching all over and felt terrible.  Ryan and I were admitted to hospital and when we were in the assessment room, two women were there with babies and started breastfeeding. I was so low.  I turned my back with tears rolling down my face as I fed him breast milk from the bottle…

I couldn’t believe it but Ryan turned back to breastfeeding in the hospital. It may have been a combination of factors: we were in a darkened room on our own with no stimulus; I was eating bland hospital food (yuck) and had lots of rest.  Once Ryan had seen all the medical personnel, and been given him the all clear, I realised he was just being stubborn and I became even more determined to have him breastfeed. I hated having to sterilise all the bottles and I needed to have boiled water to heat the breast milk in cafes etc… it was such a pain.

After a trip away, I was determined to return to full breastfeeding.  I managed to get Taylor looked after for a few days and I brought a whole lot of convenience meals. I stayed at home with Ryan and removed all bottle feeding. I decided that if he would not feed from the breast, he could drink from a cup and that was all.  I was more stubborn than he was after all!  I fed him in the bath to relax him, and when he was really hungry and refused to breastfeed, I took off his clothes, except for a nappy, and took off my t-shirt, wrapping us in a duvet in the darkened bedroom, he sucked my finger furiously, and I rocked him slowly and lowered him into feed position.  Then I quickly whipped out his finger and tried to latch him on. Initially I did not care if he was not on properly, I would let him take some milk and then after a few minutes latch him properly sitting up in bed in the dark with him at my breast, was pure elation… I now knew that I could do this!!

There was only one time that first night when he absolutely refused both breasts, so I heated some breast milk in a cup, and offered it to him. He was ravenous and he lurched at the cup - he coughed and spluttered, gurgling and managed to take about 20mls.  His little legs were frantic, he was desperately trying to suck at the milk, he looked up at me and instead of giving in and giving him milk in the bottle he got a kiss and a cuddle and put to bed….  we have never looked back…

From that first mercy call to Chery it took ten weeks of hard work to get Ryan back to breastfeeding, but we achieved the almost impossible.  We had such incredible support and lots of professional people were amazed at what we had all achieved. I even did a breastfeeding demonstration at a medical conference, and used the supplementer as well.  Ryan fed beautifully and showed them what to do, then came off contented and beaming at all the people gathered around!

Ryan’s growth spurt at 4 months was the next tough stage.  Ryan screamed when I tried to put him on the left breast, so on Cheryl’s advice I let that breast dry up.  It took a few days and although I was afraid I would have one lemon and one watermelon but that never happened and you would never know!!

I am sad that Ryan had such a traumatic start to his life. He was slowly being starved. I am angry and disappointed that he fell through the cracks, but I also know that the midwives all cared about Ryan and were as passionate as I was about breastfeeding. I feel there were too many midwives involved and they did not communicate very well together about our case. I would have loved to have known that lactation consultants were available for specialist advice in feeding. Since that panicked phone call that Ryan had stopped feeding all together, I have never heard from the midwives, which is very disappointing… BUT Ryan is now 6 months and is a beautiful, contented happy chubby wee boy. He sleeps really well and breastfeeds like a pro. All the stress and sleepless nights has been worth it to see his contentment at the breast, his little fists kneading and his eyes rolling in ecstasy as the milk flows.  Seeing him coming off satiated and milk drunk is just awesome!!

Thanks to Steve my amazing husband, family and friends, and to Cheryl ‘lactation consultant’ who was my rock!  WE DID IT!!