For something so natural, it sure is difficult to get the hang of. How does every other mammal on the planet do it without books, instructional videos, and individuals whose entire career is comprised of helping others breastfeed?
Different sources give me different numbers, but somewhere near 60% of moms are breastfeeding when they leave the hospital, and only 23% are still breastfeeding after 6 months. The World Health Organization recommends breastfeeding for at least two years, with the first 6 months being exclusive. So there's a huge disparity and no one seems to really know why.
I believe that 70% of the problem is laziness and/or misinformation floating around as a result of anti-nursing trends in 40's & 50s, which I believe were the result of prudishness and the over-sexualization of breasts in our culture. Another 29% (I'm making these numbers up, now) is probably the real complexity, both physical and logistical, of breastfeeding. Maybe the other 1% actually have physical abnormalities that prohibit breastfeeding. That tiny fraction would have perished in the wild were it not for surgeons and baby formula. Provided of course it wasn't from China.
If I'm ever asked for advice about childbirth by an expectant mother, I will tell her not to underestimate the importance of preparing not only for the birth but for the 24 hours afterwards that she'll want to use establishing a healthy nursing relationship with her baby. You spend so much time focusing on the one event (the birth) that once it's done you're there with ZERO preparation to do this other extremely important thing that also requires some knowledge and skill. If the hospital you're delivering in doesn't have certified lactation consultants on staff (as in real lactation consultants, not just nurses who took a 5 hour class), it's a great investment to hire one.
As you may have guessed, I had some trouble getting started breastfeeding in the hospital.
My precious little treefrog would chomp down on my nipple as though she were trying to bite it off. There was no suckling. Only chomping. Needless to say it was extremely painful. One idiot nurse who obviously knew nothing about proper latch insisted that I should let her chomp away; that I wasn't "giving the baby a chance."
A chance to WHAT, exactly? Bite my frickin nipple off? It just wasn't working. Kayla would bite down, I would yelp, she would get scared and cry, and we were both miserable. I tracked down a lactation consultant (LC) who agreed to come see us in the hospital that same day. (Note to non-parents: Yes, there are people whose entire living is made helping new moms breastfeed.) Kudos to Robin, who felt helpless watching us go through this and encouraged me without hesitation to get professional help even though it was an unexpected expense.
When she came I was already feeling pretty defeated, and questioning whether breastfeeding was something I could even do. Maybe the pain I was experiencing was normal and I was just a wimp, or maybe my baby was born dumb and just didn't know how to eat.
The LC worked with us for about half an hour and declared that I had nipple trauma (yay!), and that Kayla had a short frenulum. That's that little piece of skin that holds your tongue to the bottom of your mouth.
To get a proper latch, and to be able to feed without hurting mommy, the baby needs to extend her tongue down over her bottom gums. Kayla was unable to do this, and couldn't use her tongue to milk the breast properly.
The LC suggested we see a specialist to see about clipping her frenulum so that she'd be able to use her tongue properly and get a better latch. I was horrified at the idea and refused, determined to make it work without resorting to anything that seemed so drastic. Here I had this perfect, amazing baby, and I wasn't about to let anyone near her with sharp things.
So for the next two weeks, I alternated between pumping (every two hours, day and goddamn night, to keep my supply up), feeding with a nipple shield, and attempting every so often to feed her normally, directly on my breast. This whole ordeal was easily as physically challenging as the birth itself. I considered just switching to formula but every time I looked at the ingredients list for that shit, not to mention thought of the cheesy smell and all the amazing benefits I'd be cheating my daughter out of, I sucked it up and continued torturing myself.
In fact, the more I learned about breast milk and breastfeeding, the more amazed I was, and the more determined I became to make it work. Some of my favorite facts:
- The flavor of breast milk changes based on what you eat, which keeps baby interested in food and help establish a broader sense of taste. Breastfed babies often take to solid foods more quickly than formula fed babies because of this.
- Your baby benefits from your immune system. Before developing antibodies of her own, baby gets them from your breast milk. Breastfed babies generally get sick less often than formula fed ones.
- Breast milk changes as your baby ages. For example, it has a higher fat content when baby is younger and needs to put on the weight quickly. It's even perfect nutritionally for a baby that's born premature. It also changes from day to day, and from feeding to feeding, to meet your baby's needs in terms of nutrients and hydration. That means you don't need to think about whether baby is getting enough calories, enough water, etc. It's all there already in perfect balance.
- Breastfed babies are much less likely to develop food allergies. This was a major plus for me since my husband's family is plagued with them.
Finally I relented and went to see the specialist, and I am SO glad that we did. By that time I noticed that when Kayla stuck her tongue out, it had a bit of a heart shape to it because the middle was being pulled back by her short frenulum.
She gets this from me. I have a very short tongue. In elementary school boys would stick their tongue out at me and then make fun of me when I did it back because I could only stick out like half an inch. By high school the jokes turned into postulations on my lack of oral sex prowess, which I countered by explaining that a small tongue just meant there was more room in my mouth for other things. That shut 'em up.
ANYWAY.
The specialist explained that there aren't even any nerve endings in the frenulum, and that snipping it a little bit would be quick, painless, eliminate the possibility that she would need to switch to formula once I exhaust myself with current regimen, and possibly even save her from speech problems later on in life. I decided to do it, but I couldn't watch. Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin stayed with her during the procedure while I hid in the bathroom.
When I came back in she was happy as a clam, and I was told I could feed her right away. Nothing to let bleed or heal, no swelling... just a happy baby ready to eat. And she did! For the very first time, I fed her normally, and there was (amazingly) NO PAIN. It's true that if breastfeeding hurts, you're not doing it right.
Since then it's been pretty smooth sailing. Sleeping is AWESOME now. When she gets hungry in the middle of the night, both of us hardly even have to wake up. She sleeps right next to me and when I hear her rooting, I just turn toward her and she latches on, and we both fall back asleep. It's a beautiful thing. I'm the best-rested mother of a three-month-old I know.
As as for providing comfort when she's fussy, nothing compares. Well, sometimes dad's arm will do for a little while...
... but he can only take so much of that before his arm starts to hurt.
I can't say I have any sympathy. =)
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