my unexpected c-section, difficult recovery and breastfeeding struggles gave us a new perspective on parenting equally. on asa's birthday, when i finally came to after surgery, cameron had already been parenting for about 7 hours. he'd handled her first diapers, helped with her first meal (formula given through a syringe, since we wanted to establish breastfeeding) and comforted her when she cried. my first night as a mama was spent tethered to my bed, receiving a blood transfusion and lots and lots of medication. i couldn't get up to change her diaper; hell, i couldn't even lift her from the bassinet. if i wanted to hold her or try nursing, cameron brought her to the bed.
the next day, i still couldn't do much, but i could stand and walk a little. the thought of carrying this tiny human when i was so weak scared me to death, so i stuck to holding her while sitting or lying. cameron was still changing all diapers; he bathed her for the first time, dressed her, and accompanied her to the nursery anytime she had to go. he did everything except breastfeed, and if he could have, i'm sure he would have. i was already feeling the first horrible pangs of guilt and inadequacy even though i was doing as much as i possibly could with the support of an amazing partner.
by the time we went home, we were having trouble nursing. asa would latch, but when she only got colostrum, she become frantic and angry. she'd shake her head furiously and pop off the breast, screaming as if to say "give me my damn food, mom." my milk took its sweet time coming in, so she was beyond frustrated when she finally got more than a few drops. it wasn't coming fast enough, and asa wanted it yesterday. she lost a full pound in about 4 days. we saw several lactation consultants who thought my production was low and encouraged me to feed asa every 2-3 hours from both breasts, then supplement her with half an ounce of formula from a syringe or supplemental nursing system (a tube taped to the breast that dispenses milk), then pump for about 15 minutes on each side. for the first couple weeks of asa's life, all i was doing was working to feed my baby while cameron handled everything else.
i started dreading nursing sessions, then loathing myself for dreading nursing sessions. when i'd feel my milk come in, i would panic. i became so sick i wanted to throw up every time i felt a letdown. i was so worried that i was starving my baby that i couldn't enjoy feeding her. asa certainly didn't enjoy it. she screamed every.single.time. she even learned how to dislodge the SNS tube. immediately after she'd finish nursing, cameron fed her formula with a syringe while i pumped. i wanted nothing more than to hold and snuggle my tiny, angry baby bird, but instead i hunkered over a double electric breast pump while she struggled against the syringe. every feeding was a two person job. we were both exhausted, and i was trying to heal from major surgery. i was barely eating or drinking, and certainly not sleeping. something had to give.
the day before cameron went back to work when asa was almost 3 weeks old, he went to the grocery store while i handled my first feeding alone. i nursed as long as she would tolerate it, then tried to give her the formula supplement. the only way i could successfully get the syringe in her mouth was to wait for her to scream. she felt horrible and so did i. there was no way i could do that after every single feeding. desperate, i dug out a bottle and fed her the supplement. she downed it immediately and without protest.
when i chose to nurse asa, i made the decision based on a lot of factors. i wanted her to get the best food possible, food made especially for her. i wanted to bond. nursing seemed so natural, so simple. i wanted my body to continue nourishing my daughter well beyond her birth. apparently, my body had different plans.
it's really funny how our ideal expectations and reality never quite seem to align. before asa was born,. i knew i could never, ever have a child with someone who wouldn't change diapers or wake up in the middle of the night for feedings. however, when my partner did that and more, i felt like total shit. who was i? i couldn't birth my baby, i couldn't feed my baby, now i couldn't even take care of her! the pressure to be a perfect mom had me feeling awful even when i was in the middle of my ideal parenting scenario: an equal partnership with someone who loved his daughter so, so much. suddenly, i felt like a good mama had to do everything, everything for her baby and if she didn't, she was no one. thank goodness for cameron, who talked me down from that ridiculous ledge over and over again.
after several more weeks of nursing, pumping, and supplementing with bottles, i finally began to feel comfortable enough to consider giving up nursing. my body was healing, and with treatment for postpartum depression, my mind was healing, too. i still felt sick and panicked during every feeding, but i started feeling like a parent in other ways. i was learning how to soothe her when she cried. i was changing diapers and giving her baths. i was realizing that i could do this, and that i didn't have to breastfeed to be a mama. all i had to do was love my daughter.
i still remember the first night we fed asa formula instead of breastmilk. i remember it because it was the first night in weeks that i slept more than about 2 hours in a row. i remember it because even though i felt horribly guilty, i also felt so, so lucky to be with someone who supported and encouraged me. feeding asa from a bottle has allowed us to share equally in yet another aspect of her care. yes, we could have done this with breastmilk as well, but circumstances led us down a different path, and that's okay. i'd say she's doing just fine.
No comments:
Post a Comment