Before our son, Ethan, was born, I was determined to breastfeed, exclusively, for at least 1 year. I went through all the information I could get my hands on. I took as many classes as the hospital offered including the breastfeeding class. My husband and I even discussed how we were going to do it: after the breastfeeding is established, I would pump like crazy and freeze it and he would have the "bonding" session with the baby, bottle-feed him my breast milk. At the breastfeeding class, I thought, this is easy, I wonder why there are not more women breastfeed their baby? The only question I had was how to hold my baby. Cradle hold? Football hold? Considering how much I hate my husband's obsession with football (or any sports, for that matter), I decided NO football hold. Then we were just waiting for the baby to arrive. I was naive.
Then there he came. I thought I did everything right - I told them I wanted to breastfeed, even though I was scheduled for a C-section; I asked to see a lactation consultant. But then everything could go wrong went wrong. My baby was fed the formula (they said we asked for it - I can't quite argue because I just didn't remember much with all the pain killer pumping into my body), and the lactation consultant never showed up (turned out she was on vacation but nobody in the hospital told me!). However I thought I was doing well in the hospital. Every nurse came in, took a look, and told me, "he's latching on really well", and I believed all of them - how do I know if anything was wrong? I've never had a baby, not to mention breastfeeding!
We came home, and that's when all the disaster started. My nipples hurt like crazy, and my little boy cried every single time after I fed him. He cried, I cried, blaming myself for not being able to provide all he wanted and my husband cracked open another ready-to-feed formula that hospital sent home with us. I'm stubborn, not ready to give up and that's when I called Debbie. She did a thorough assessment, corrected the breastfeeding positions, weighed my baby before and after the feeding, and provided me with ample information and support. Little by little we're back to a less crying routine, but we never could catch up with this tiny big eater. Can after can of the baby formula. But I've never given up on breastfeeding him.
Now 20 months later, I'm still breastfeeding my little boy, and we both still enjoy these moments so much, thanks to Debbie's constant advice and help. My baby and I both are getting comfortable and good at it. I know I can't go back time and do it all over again, but I want to make up for the time I spent with the pump and my baby spent with bottles.