BS. We are somehow made to believe that BF is natural...you will know what to do once that baby is first placed in your arms and so will the baby. Load of crap...
I knew I was likely to have issues with this. I had a breast reduction in 2003, the summer before I graduated with my undergrad. I really thought I would not even lactate and Meatball was going to be a formula baby. At some point, this became not cool with me and I was not going to let it happen.
I started researching. I scoured the web. I searched for books. I sought advice on boards...little information I found did not look promising.
Then I was told by a friend on the Bump to check out another girl's profile that said she was a BFAR success story. I searched for this girl and when I found her, I was thrilled!
My friend's story was pretty uplifting. She had supply issues in the beginning and was forced to formula feed for a bit. She then began pumping to get her supply up and set small goals. Before she knew it, her little girl was a year and a half and had been EBF since she was about 4 weeks. Suddenly, this need and want to BF Meatball became even more desirable...a challenge I guess!
While waiting the last few weeks for Meatball's arrival, I contacted a couple of the county's lactation consultants. Without going into much detail, it was a waste of time and effort. There was never a positive or encouraging response received when I explained I was BFAR. Pretty much was always told in the end I would be formula feeding so why go to the trouble.
I then came across a book called Defining Your Own Success. It was written by a LLL Leader who had a reduction and was able to EBF. It had a lot of information which I felt even more armed with and was even more excited now that I had another success story...this one in writing! No one was going to stop me now!
When Meatball arrived, it was so important for us to get some skin to skin and get him to try and latch right away. Although I tried and tried hard, he would not latch. He was not interested at all and I was devastated...thought we were on a road to disaster from there. I did not give up though.
In the hospital, I continue to try and get him to latch. He did! He suckled and I was so happy. Didn't know if a thing was coming out but didn't even cross my mind at that point. My baby latched and I was sure we would be able to get the rest together.
All seemed great until our first appointment with the pediatrician and my little Meatball had "lost too much weight" in her opinion. She came out with a bottle of formula, a standard nipple, and offered it to my little (yellow) hungry baby. He gulped and chugged that thing down. I bawled right then and there. Yea I could get him to latch but I must not have anything coming out so I starved him...all I kept thinking to myself. After the appointment, I went home to pump as often as possible and to bottle feed Meatball to get his weight up.
Once I started pumping, I could see that I was lactating and a good amount. I was so thrilled and back to positive thinking...I got milk! I can do this!
Now that I have milk, let's get this baby to latch...pff. Breastfeeding is so not natural. Neither one of us knew what to do. He liked the nipples of the bottles and my small, flat nips were not cutting it for him. I would try to latch before every feeding. We would both sit there with our Boppy exhausted and with tears streaming down our faces. In the end, the screaming baby won and got a bottle...which I fed to him through tears and while weeping. I failed is all I could think to myself.
After crying all day and night long for days, crying to friends over the phone, and crying with the baby at each feeding time, I decided to try nipple shields. Once I got the damn thing on (which literally took HOURS), Meatball latched right away!! He was nursing...he was getting BM because I could see it pooling into the shield...he was sucking and swallowing!! I was and he was nursing!!
Prosthetic nipple. That's what it took to get my baby to the breast and nursing. And they say breastfeeding is so natural.
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