By Emily Andrew
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August 8, 2021
My breastfeeding journey started the night before my c-section with my mother squeezing my breast to get the first mls of colostrum into a teeny tiny syringe so that we had something to go into hospital with. Just in case we should need it. I have always been very self-conscious of my boobs, I’ve even been uncomfortable topless in front of my husband at times, but here I was, 37 weeks pregnant and preparing for a planned but urgent c-section, tit out and being milked by my mother. I don’t have strong opinions on breast/bottle/formula, yes I wanted to give it a go to get the benefits of breastfeeding for both me and my son but, I believe that everyone is different and therefore there’s no ‘right way’. I had decided that I was going to just go with the flow in terms of breast feeding. I didn’t want to have my heart set on it, only to struggle and then feel the disappointment of using an alternative means. I was lucky, after the c-section my son latched and fed for a good few hours. I felt like I could breathe a sigh of relief, he could do it, I could do it! Unfortunately, things didn’t go as smoothly as I thought they would. He had been born early as he had stopped growing, so we had a tiny baby on our hands that needed lots of milk, but this tiny baby also had jaundice and a tongue tie. The tongue tie meant that the amount of energy he was having to use just to feed was causing him to drink for less than 10 minutes before needing a sleep. We rallied and decided that if I could pump and give him top ups of expressed breast milk then at least we could know he was getting enough, which was the main concern, however it meant that feeding him was an hour and a half long affair. First I’d breast feed, then give him a bottle top up and then either give him to my husband during the day or pop him in the moses basket at night. I’d then pump to keep my supply going and our stores up, put the milk in the fridge, clean the bottle and sterilise everything ready for the next feed…then do it all over again an hour later. I was sleep deprived and stressed. If I had less than 4 bottles in the fridge I’d feel on edge, I never knew how much of a top up he would need to have- I didn’t want to waste milk and I didn’t want to leave him hungry. My sister supplied some of her frozen breast milk to take the self-imposed pressure off for a day or so and then my mum gently suggested that I buy some formula just in case but, stubborn as ever I wanted to do it all myself. After a few weeks we had our tongue tie appointment and had to figure out another new routine, thankfully with less cracked nipples and fewer pumping sessions. I began to feel slightly less like a milk machine - I got out of the house, did human things and as time went on I got more comfortable and really enjoyed breast feeding. I am now 9 weeks in and largely feel like we’ve got this. Don’t get me wrong, some days I worry that my milk has dried up, I’m not pumping enough, his latch is wrong or that he’s not getting what he needs, but I think that that’s part and parcel of being a mum – you feel like you have it all worked out one minute and then the next you feel like you’re failing at everything. This is exactly why I feel like putting pressure on ourselves, or each other to do things a certain way is just fruitless. I’m sure that no matter what the choice, there are hard bits that just feel too much, days where you spill the milk and just feel like everything is against you. No matter what way you feed your baby, it’s important to give yourself grace over guilt. Do what you need to do to keep both you and your baby happy and healthy.