Our Breastfeeding Journey

The goal was three months. I would breastfeed Luke for three months, and hopefully in those three months, pump enough milk to bottle feed him with breast milk for the next three months. Then he would wean from breastmilk (I guess I told myself that overnight one night he would just decide that he was done), and we would be on solids. Simple as that. That was the plan.

Before I had my son, I was faced with deciding whether or not I would breastfeed. There was a time in my life that I can vividly remember saying "hell no, I won't breastfeed. That's disgusting." Ahhh.....it makes me angry at my former self to think that I ever felt that way. But I also feel relieved that I was able to come to my senses. And so I decided, as I said above, that I would breastfeed Luke for a few months.

Luke was born on a Monday evening. He latched right away and we were off on our breastfeeding journey. My milk didn't come in until Friday. Wow, did that suck. Flu-like symptoms and a massive rush of hormones left me crying uncontrollably in bed on that otherwise beautiful May day for four straight hours. My husband looked at me like I had grown horns and polka dots. I kept on feeding Luke though, because that was the plan. Looking back on it now, I think he had a shallow latch. Because every time I fed him, for the first two weeks of his life, it was toe-curling pain. Literally toe-curling, teeth-gritting pain. It lasted for about 15 seconds and then subsided. Every. Damn. Time. I didn't know any different. I thought that was normal. After the first two weeks (and some lovely scabs), it got better.

Luke ate like a champ, although he didn't eat the way the books said he would. He never really wanted to nurse for 15 minutes on one side and then switch to the other side like he was "supposed to." Nope. He wanted to eat for 5-10 minutes on one side and then he was done. I think he was bored of laying in one spot. But we slowly got the hang of it. It wasn't what I had expected, but it was working for us. Luke wanted to nurse every 2 hours all day and night. There were some nights that he slept for 4-5 hours at a time, but they were rare. Most of the time, Luke was eating every 2 hours. (And, at 8 months, he still is...) But, he would only eat for 5-10 minutes and then he was done. So it wasn't awful. I had planned to feed him on demand, and that's what I did.

So days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a month. The pain had subsided, although the leaking hadn't. (That was a bullshit sweet part of breastfeeding that nobody had really talked about.) The leaking. I remember it fondly. Cotton reusable nursing pads? Might as well have used them to wipe my ass. Because they did NOTHING to keep my girls from leaking. I ordered some bamboo reusables that worked much better. But even though I wasn't leaking through my shirt as much, I still had to wear these pads. Constantly. In my bra. Yuck.

One month turned into two. And two months turned into three. And there I was, on August 14th, three months after Luke was born, asking myself what in the fuck heck I was thinking when I decided that I would breastfeed for three months and then bottle feed with pumped milk for the next three. Because, you see, I had barely spent any time pumping at all. Why would I? I had since learned about the supply and demand of breastfeeding. The more baby eats, the more your breasts will produce. Well in the beginning, the last thing I needed was to be making more milk. I was feeling dairy-cow-ish enough as it was with the every two hour feedings. So I didn't bother to pump. Occasionally I did, but surely not enough to have a stash for three full months of feedings. And the few times that I did pump, and Luke was given a bottle, were awful. He chewed the nipple of the bottle. He spit it out. He drooled milk all over himself. He cried. He squirmed. He swatted at the bottle. It was a circus. We felt like why even bother?! And after he got a bottle, the next time I breastfed him was a joke. It took one or two feedings to get him back into the swing of things. Totally not worth it.

And I didn't care. Because I actually enjoyed breastfeeding Luke. It had become so much more than a way to fill up his little belly. There is an emotional aspect to breastfeeding that isn't as publicized as the nourishment part. Also, Oxytocin is released and the uterus contracts when you feed your child from the breast. (Yes, I loved being back in my old clothes 6 weeks after giving birth). It made me happy that when he was fussy, I could comfort him by myself. And it was SO convenient. I could feed him anywhere, at any time, with food that was the perfect temperature and the perfect amount. In the dressing room at Target? Check. In the car on the way to Grandma and Grandpas? Check. In the front yard while we were enjoying the nice weather? Check. In the middle of downtown Chicago? Check. Breastfeeding Luke was easy. And we both enjoyed it.

My new goal became six months. I would breastfeed Luke until he was six months old, and then he would eat solids. Two plugged ducts later, November 14th arrived. Six months of exclusive breastfeeding. Not a drop of formula. Never a pacifier. Maybe 6 bottles total. So there we were...November 14th. And guess what? I was still clueless. Was Luke ready to eat solids only? Absofuckinglutely not! He gagged on oatmeal. He gagged on bananas. He gagged on sweet potatoes. And he still loved to nurse. We were nowhere near ready to wean. And I didn't care. Because I still enjoyed breastfeeding him. It was easy for us. When he was hungry, I fed him. Simple as that. The leaking was over with. The pain was gone. It was just easy and simple and the best thing I could be doing for him.

I decided I needed to make a new goal. Because three months had passed, and six months had passed. And so I did. I have a new goal for breastfeeding. And I am proud to say that my new goal is to let Luke wean when he is ready. Yep. When HE is ready. Breastmilk has every beneficial nutrient that my baby needs right now. And it changes to accomodate his needs. At least until he is one, his primary source of nutrition will be breastmilk. And we couldn't be happier. He has started eating some solids, but we are letting him guide the way with that, too. When we sit down to eat, we put some of what we are eating on his plate and let him explore it. Gradually, he has started eating more and more. Sweet potatoes are his favorite. And he is so damn cute when he picks the chunks up and puts them into his mouth. No purees, no shoving containers of food down his throat. No force feeding him strained peas and prunes and other nasty commercial baby foods. Luke is getting breastmilk whenever he wants it and so all other food before age one is just for fun.

I am proud of myself and my body. Breastfeeding has definitely not always been easy. But knowing that I am providing my child with the best start in life makes it totally worth it. Knowing that I am not feeding him some man-made chemical shit formula makes me happy. I know that Luke is healthier because he is getting breastmilk. What could be more perfect for a baby than the milk of his own mother? Nothing! So we will continue on our breastfeeding journey. It is much different than I thought it would be. And it is so much better.