The Truth & The Nipple Nazis

I've given a lot of thought about the purpose I had in mind when I started my blog. I was on the verge of getting married - I was planning a wedding and quite disturbed about the amount of chaotic stress from the mere planning of a joyous event. Since starting this blog, I have had numerous friends and acquaintances tell me how much they appreciate(d) my honest perspectives on wedding planning and marriage in general. So, I kept it going, and now that I have a child in my family, there's so much to write about, so much to be completely honest about. However, some of these topics are so very personal and quite controversial that I'm bound to upset someone (including myself) for being so honest, forthcoming, and daring. After talking with some close coworkers of mine who came to visit Banner one day, I decided I'm not being true to myself if I don't come out with the honest perspectives of parenting, mothering, nurturing my marriage, and taking care of myself. Therefore, I'm not going to stop with my ranting, raving, venting, pondering, questioning, discussing, and complaining. Again, I wouldn't be true to my original purpose if I only shared the (many!) positive aspects of my experiences with my marriage and family, so I'll be honest and say what so many women feel/think/experience whether it's good, bad, or ugly!

With that, I'll "share out" (Sam makes fun of us teachers who use this phrase) about my experiences with nursing and the "Nipple Nazis."

I knew when I had children that I'd want to breastfeed. I never understood why women would not even try to give this natural act a shot when it so clearly is best for babies and great for bonding. It's financially beneficial, as well. There are so many advantages to nursing - from less dishes to clean after a feeding to being able to have your milk wherever you go. I loved knowing that I would continue to be "tied" to my baby for a longer period of time after pregnancy ended. Feeling this way, I looked into classes at my hospital on breastfeeding. Sam agreed that this was the best for our baby, and he gladly attended the class with me. We learned a lot, but we knew that 75% of breastfeeding knowledge wouldn't really come until we had a baby at the breast trying to get food from me. The class did teach us, however, about the many benefits of breastfeeding, proper latching, helpful holds, and tools for more comfortable nursing sessions. We left the class feeling empowered with knowledge to get Banner started on the right track and knowing that breast milk would be the best for our baby. We couldn't wait for that first skin-to-skin bonding that would lead to successful breastfeeding like we were told about in class and in books we had read.

And, that's where our positive story ends.

Moments after having Banner's naked body against my bare chest, the nursery nurse tried to help me get Banner to nurse. Still shaking from after surgery and more tired than I think I've ever felt in my life (yes, even more than I am right now), I was in a daze and felt overwhelmed that my little boy was here already! I still remember feeling like it was a dream, so I kind of think I wasn't emotionally ready to get him to latch on to my breast at that point. I wish the nurse had let me wait even 10 more minutes. Because, lo and behold, my "first time at the breast" fantasy was completely destroyed when Banner wouldn't have any of this boob nonsense. We had been told that the baby would naturally find my breast and start suckling. This did not happen, and looking back, I feel like Banner and I were forced into a process that should have been more organic. Sam and I have reflected on this one moment over and over again. We don't think this one experience could make or break nursing success, but we feel it definitely could have gone more smoothly and might have changed my own outlook. From that moment, I know I started to get more tense about the entire idea of nursing, knowing that maybe it wouldn't be as easy as I thought (even though I knew it wouldn't be easy and there would be times I'd be frustrated).

In the hours that followed, we continued to try to get Banner to nurse. He just wouldn't latch on. We tried and tried, and we had nurses to help us, but my baby just wasn't figuring it out. I felt like it was my fault that I couldn't get him to latch properly, that there must be something I was doing wrong - maybe I wasn't holding him the right way, maybe I was too tense, maybe there was something wrong with my anatomy, maybe this or that... the list went on and on. Without any success, we asked to speak with a lactation consultant. Early the next morning after Banner was born, we met with a woman who seemed to be patient and calm while she explained more about breastfeeding and taught us things we already really knew. She then examined Banner's mouth and sucking reflexes; she found that he had a very high palate and a very strong suck. Next, she examined my breasts and noticed that my nipples were not exactly a good match for Banner's high palate. This was the first time I've ever been made to feel that there is something wrong with my breasts; they were inadequate for feeding my child. The main purpose of my breasts is to provide food for my baby, and they were not easily going to meet that need! So, we tried gadgets and tricks to get Banner to latch on - nipple shields, nipple shells, supplemental nursing systems (SNS), even finger sucking so that Banner could learn to adjust his mouth properly.

We discussed how we would supplement with formula until my milk was in higher supply, what would happen if Banner wouldn't latch with more practice, and how to start pumping. The next day, the same consultant came back with a student of hers. She wanted to see if we'd made any more improvements, so what followed was a lot of me trying to show her what I've tried, more coaching, getting Sam more involved in the process, and finally - a complete and full-blown meltdown on my part. My baby would scream in frustration every time I tried to get him to latch. I was so overwhelmed with frustration of my own from these women trying to help without success, from them pushing my baby's head into my chest again and again, from them directing and instructing while my baby cried incessantly. I was feeling like a total failure - my nipples were inadequate, my breasts were hurting, my baby was so unhappy, and my dream was fizzling quickly. Tears just streamed down my face as I was completely exhausted, beyond emotional, and still in lots of pain from my surgery. We were having to give Banner formula to feed him, and this was NOT a part of my plan!! I continued to pump without seeing anything come out! It was during this sobbing meltdown that my lactation consultant tried to make me feel better by telling me that I was doing everything right; it was Banner who needed to learn to work harder. Wait, what?? Banner needs to learn to work harder? He's just over 24 hours old at this point, and she's saying HE has the problem? I didn't buy it. Never, though, did she say, "Amber, this is just not going to work for you and Banner. You aren't going to be able to nurse. Some women just can't do it, but I'm proud of you for trying." I really wish those lactation consultants would mention that - just be honest and say this may not work for some people. Soon after I calmed down, the ladies quickly left my room. I felt badly for the student who had to witness my meltdown, but, then again, welcome to lactation!

I refused to give up, but with sores on my nipples, we decided to take some time off from trying to latch so my breasts could heal. In the meantime, we were finger feeding Banner and I was pumping. Three more lactation consultants would meet with us in the coming days. Every nursery nurse and each of my nurses would try to help me with feeding Banner as well. The best story was when one nursery nurse came to check in one morning. (I should also mention that every time we had a visit from any nurse or doctor, they asked if nursing was going any better. I was SO tired of this question as the answer was always NO! My own OB even let me stay in the hospital one more day, partially in the hopes that I could get continued help with breastfeeding. I felt like I was the failure on the postpartum floor that everyone knew about!) Well, this one particular nurse offered to help, and my response to her was literally this: "I'm going to tell you what I just told my husband. I am really sick and tired of everyone trying to help me without any success. The problem is that the baby has a strong suck, a high palate, and he won't latch. My nipples are inadequate, and I don't have any milk yet. I have worked with every nurse and 3 lactation consultants, and everyone comes to the same conclusion - that this is not working. So, I am very frustrated, but I'm willing to hear what suggestions you have." The woman was quiet and patient as she said, "I understand. Let's just see what's going on here." I knew what would happen - the same thing that happened with every other nurse/consultant. I would have to prove to her that things were not going well no matter what I tried. Sure enough, that's what happened, as she got to see for herself that Banner and I were not a good feeding match. As tears streamed down my face yet again and Sam tried to console me, the nurse said the first comforting thing we had heard, "You know what? This isn't working. You're a patient, too, and this isn't fair to you." I felt so human again just hearing those words. Sam really appreciated these words, too. In fact, the next day, we all (nurse included) teared up as Sam thanked her for what she had said earlier, as he told her that she was the first person to recognize that I was also a patient.

This nurse was significantly different from another nursery nurse we had on our last night in the hospital. Oh, she was obnoxious! At 2:00am, as I started to pump and Sam began to finger feed Banner, she asked if I had tried a nipple shield. I told we had tried a few times and that it had not worked. She insisted that I should try a shield. I told her I had (yes, again). She said something like, "You really should try that, it could really help him latch on," to which I replied in a short, overly tired tone, "FINE! I will try that again for the fifth time and see if it works again!" ... She quickly left the room. :)

Even my daytime nurse was extremely insensitive and unwilling to hear what I was saying. She would ask me each day if breastfeeding was going better, and I'd tell her no. She would say, "You should just give him the colostrum that you're pumping." No shit, Sherlock! If I had anything coming out, I'd give it to him! And, if that would solve the problem, we'd all be much happier, but it just wasn't happening! One morning, she even said, "You are not as weepy today!" Screw you, lady - you work on the postpartum floor! Thanks for making me feel like I'm the only new mother who can't stop crying! What's that they say about hormones after childbirth (especially a childbirth that didn't go your way)? Oh, yeah, that it makes you moody and you can get the "baby blues." Had she not heard of this phenomenon? Yes, I was so happy to meet my baby and I was beyond grateful that he was healthy and strong, but the whole breastfeeding thing was truly upsetting. I told my family and friends in looking back over the whole thing that my feelings were completely justifiable, and I knew exactly why I was upset each time I cried; however, under other circumstances where my hormones weren't completely out of whack, I just wouldn't have cried about these things. The tears seemed uncontrollable due to my frustration and that of my baby's.

I know this is a really long post, so if you're still reading, I'll try to wrap it up. The next few days at home brought more frustration - we visited the pediatrician who wrote a prescription to go see the lactation consultant again. We went back to the hospital, seemed to have some success that day, but once at home, no such luck. I continued pumping, and by now Banner was getting a bottle of formula after any colostrum (and later, mature milk) that I could pump out. There were a couple days where my mom and/or Sam would help scrape off any colostrum that would drip out with a liquid medicine cup. There were times I'd try to get Banner to latch and again re-frustrate both of us with the failed attempt. We tried the Boppy, My Brest Friend, every nursing hold there is, and every tool for helping moms breastfeed. You name it, we tried it - including the herb, Fenugreek, to try to increase my milk supply. I finally was able to pump about 2 ounces out of one breast (lo and behold, my "more inadequate" breast!) that we could give Banner at almost every feeding. Until one day, I developed blisters on that breast - the one I got the most milk from. Due to pain, I had to stop pumping, and the other side just wasn't getting more than a few milliliters.

It was that day, two weeks after Banner was born, that I made the most difficult decision to stop pumping. Latching wasn't working, he was already getting a lot of formula, and I was in a lot of pain. I cried and cried over this decision, feeling defeated and upset! I felt like I had this magical substance that I could give to my baby that I was withholding from him while giving him formula, which we are made to think is some kind of poison. My mother, a breast cancer survivor who had undergone a double mastectomy, embraced me as I cried - telling her that I never take my breasts for granted, and the one thing they were meant to do - they just aren't doing! I felt guilty and sad about my decision, but in the end, Banner and I needed to be happy, and our family is doing better without the frustrations over and over again.

Days later, I went to my OB for a post-op check-up. They asked if I was bottle or breastfeeding, and when I said bottle, I felt guilty. The nurse told me that 95% of their patients do NOT breastfeed. When the doctor came in, he echoed this statistic, and he told me that if it's not going well, why bother? Why put myself through this frustration? He said he's seen marriages dissolve over this issue. When I mentioned how the lactation consultants seem to make you feel so guilty for not nursing, he said that he calls them the Nipple Nazis, and no one should make you feel guilty for such a personal decision.

In looking back over everything, I just wish Sam and I were more aware of all the problems that could happen. There should have been a troubleshooting index in the book we got from our breastfeeding class. Lots of things SHOULD have happened, but it didn't. I also wish there wasn't so much guilt associated with not breastfeeding. I've decided I'll try again when I have another child, but I'll be better equipped to deal with the realities of how hard it is. I'm still dealing with the guilt. Every time I pass the nursing items at the baby stores, I get a little disappointed again. But, I'm also trying to look at the bright side: my baby has another option (formula), and my boobs don't need to be where he is all the time. I don't have to worry about special nursing clothes or hiding when I feed my baby in public. And, in leaving you with these positive thoughts, I'm sure the Nipple Nazis are already on their way to get me!