Part One
My two breastfeeding experiences couldn’t be more different. Now four and one, my boys Will & Rory are gorgeous, hilarious and bring me more joy than I ever could have imagined in the fog of the newborn days with my first.
The first few days of Will’s life felt out of control, stressful and heavy; like maybe I might never breathe easy again. Breastfeeding didn’t just feel difficult, but impossible and overwhelming.
Will was born vaginally at 6:45am after hours labouring through the previous day & night. I had an episiotomy after two hours of pushing, and moments later a midwife shoved Will straight onto my breast. I was ‘taught’ poor breastfeeding technique at the hospital, and not listened to when I raised concerns that Will wasn’t feeding ‘properly’.
When we arrived home with our baby, I just couldn’t figure out how to feed him. It wasn’t the nipple pain that was bothering me, although that was also present, it was that he was so sleepy, I couldn’t feel suckling or hear any swallowing, and in my mum gut – which I have since developed and trust - things did not feel ok. In between fleeting moments of joy, I felt completely defeated; particularly heading into the evenings. At 4pm I would have stomach-churning anxiety and even my best attempt at self-talk and pepping myself up had no effect. I felt alone, empty and unsure how or where to find the right support. Everyone had different opinions and I felt lost.
On day six my husband and I went to see a Lactation Consultant at the hospital. I couldn’t book in for a regular clinic day, but the consultant heard my desperate plea on the phone and asked me to come straight in. Perhaps too little too late, or the intense sleep deprivation and my inability to process any information, but nothing seemed to help. Maybe I was still reeling from a long, exhausting birth? Maybe it was the shock of balancing a newborn and having a sore body? (Sometime within the same week I had to take myself to hospital as my episiotomy stitches had not held together. Healing eventually took 12 weeks, but that’s a story for another time ).
On advice from the lactation consultant, we had Will’s tongue tie cut on day seven or eight. I felt brief hope to continue trying to have Will latch, but after 10 days of crippling anxiety, poor latch and an unsettled baby, I switched cold turkey to formula bottle feeding. I cried of relief and joy as Will drank a bottle and nodded off into what felt like his first belly-satisfied slumber. We had a great two weeks before hitting rock bottom.
What I know now is how incredibly protective of relationship and mental health
breastfeeding can be due to ‘love’ hormone oxytocin and bonding. The sudden drop in hormone, plus everything else going on, including grieving my mum who was battling stage four brain cancer, sent me into on a spiral of anxiety and depression. There were many layers, but looking back now it was clear I was lacking support or pre thinking about the
ins and outs of breastfeeding; but, you don’t know what you don’t know. I ended up being diagnosed with Postnatal Depression and had a month long stay in a Mums & Bub's mental health unit.
Thankfully, once having the expert care I needed – psychiatrists, psychologists, nurses who helped care for Will overnight, and meals cooked for me - my recovery was quick. I went home completely in love with and ready to face the world with a beautiful 12-week-
old Will. We continued to forge our way.
What I realise now, is that breastfeeding success, or lack of, happens within a healthy culture and context. It requires learning and preparation. I have hindsight and self-compassion looking back on the choices I made for Will and myself amidst raging hormones, birth recovery and becoming a mum for the very first time.
~Continued in Part Two with Rory~
The first few days of Will’s life felt out of control, stressful and heavy; like maybe I might never breathe easy again. Breastfeeding didn’t just feel difficult, but impossible and overwhelming.
Will was born vaginally at 6:45am after hours labouring through the previous day & night. I had an episiotomy after two hours of pushing, and moments later a midwife shoved Will straight onto my breast. I was ‘taught’ poor breastfeeding technique at the hospital, and not listened to when I raised concerns that Will wasn’t feeding ‘properly’.
When we arrived home with our baby, I just couldn’t figure out how to feed him. It wasn’t the nipple pain that was bothering me, although that was also present, it was that he was so sleepy, I couldn’t feel suckling or hear any swallowing, and in my mum gut – which I have since developed and trust - things did not feel ok. In between fleeting moments of joy, I felt completely defeated; particularly heading into the evenings. At 4pm I would have stomach-churning anxiety and even my best attempt at self-talk and pepping myself up had no effect. I felt alone, empty and unsure how or where to find the right support. Everyone had different opinions and I felt lost.
On day six my husband and I went to see a Lactation Consultant at the hospital. I couldn’t book in for a regular clinic day, but the consultant heard my desperate plea on the phone and asked me to come straight in. Perhaps too little too late, or the intense sleep deprivation and my inability to process any information, but nothing seemed to help. Maybe I was still reeling from a long, exhausting birth? Maybe it was the shock of balancing a newborn and having a sore body? (Sometime within the same week I had to take myself to hospital as my episiotomy stitches had not held together. Healing eventually took 12 weeks, but that’s a story for another time ).
On advice from the lactation consultant, we had Will’s tongue tie cut on day seven or eight. I felt brief hope to continue trying to have Will latch, but after 10 days of crippling anxiety, poor latch and an unsettled baby, I switched cold turkey to formula bottle feeding. I cried of relief and joy as Will drank a bottle and nodded off into what felt like his first belly-satisfied slumber. We had a great two weeks before hitting rock bottom.
What I know now is how incredibly protective of relationship and mental health
breastfeeding can be due to ‘love’ hormone oxytocin and bonding. The sudden drop in hormone, plus everything else going on, including grieving my mum who was battling stage four brain cancer, sent me into on a spiral of anxiety and depression. There were many layers, but looking back now it was clear I was lacking support or pre thinking about the
ins and outs of breastfeeding; but, you don’t know what you don’t know. I ended up being diagnosed with Postnatal Depression and had a month long stay in a Mums & Bub's mental health unit.
Thankfully, once having the expert care I needed – psychiatrists, psychologists, nurses who helped care for Will overnight, and meals cooked for me - my recovery was quick. I went home completely in love with and ready to face the world with a beautiful 12-week-
old Will. We continued to forge our way.
What I realise now, is that breastfeeding success, or lack of, happens within a healthy culture and context. It requires learning and preparation. I have hindsight and self-compassion looking back on the choices I made for Will and myself amidst raging hormones, birth recovery and becoming a mum for the very first time.
~Continued in Part Two with Rory~