Most people with a pulse know that 99% of reality TV isn't real, but we think that the photos, posts, tweets and texts that we get from our friends and family are. I am not saying that they are lies, but they aren't the full truth. They aren't the whole picture. The happy moments and milestones we choose to highlight can mask the reality of hardships or the constant flow of just plain boring. And in new motherhood, sometimes seeing a piece of the picture can be harder than seeing nothing at all.
I am part of a few doula groups and organizations. A fellow doula posted to one of those groups about a client who was having milk supply issues and asked for guidance from all of us about what to do. The vast majority of the responses were focused on the idea that the mom was doing something wrong, not trying hard enough, not wanting it badly enough and that she should or could be doing more.
I remember feeling all of those things when I was struggling. Feeling like I was failing by my standards and those of others around me whether family, friends, care providers, or fellow moms. I felt like no other mom was dealing with the challenges I faced because all I saw were happy, grateful, pulled-together moms with leaking boobs and freezer stashes.
Here is my response and my very real, very personal breastfeeding story:
This is so stressful. As a momma (turned doula) I had supply issues with my first a little over a year ago. And it changed my life for the worse and then, thankfully, the better.
After a long (very unwanted) induction at 41w 6d, I exclusively breastfed for the first five days, having my baby on me nearly round the clock. I felt something was wrong on day three, one day after coming home from the hospital where the IBCLC had said we looked great and that my milk would come any hour. Day three, we went to the pediatrician. Don't worry, he's lost 11% but that's normal. Your milk will come. Day five and back at the pediatrician with a very unsettled baby and a pediatrician who berated me, grabbed my breast to check for milk, told me I had put my baby in crisis (18% of his birth weight gone) and that I should supplement but should use a cup or syringe. Day six, hospital grade pump, IBCLC visits, SNS purchased, brickdust diapers. This set me off on a path of constant disappointment, grief, isolation, and feelings of deep failure. For five months, I did and tried EVERYTHING (acupuncture, pumping round the clock, power pumping, supplements, herbs, domperidone, lactogenic diet, sns supplementing exclusively for 12 weeks). I kept thinking it would click, my supply would appear. But ultimately, I put myself into therapy because I couldn't fix it, couldn't find the reason (blood tests for hormones, breast exams for IGT, transvaginal ultrasound for retained placenta all clear, all normal).
I can literally feel the stress and expectations wound up in your question and this message thread because I've been her.
So, first I want to tell this momma that she is doing a great job and that every ounce she gives her baby is special and meaningful and nourishing.
I want to tell her that she can do it, but that "it" may not look like what she thought it would. And that she shouldn't give up on what she wants, but that she should be kind to herself.
I want to tell her that even though she is angry at it, her body is doing the best it can in this moment.
I want to tell her that supplementing isn't what she planned on, but that she is feeding her baby and her baby is growing and getting stronger and that whether she breastfeeds or supplements she should feed him with care and confidence.
I want to tell her that her bond with her baby is not dependent on a boob; but yes, boobs are lovely, restorative, snuggly, happy places for a baby and we should let them hang out there as much as we can.
I want to support her with referrals of an IBCLC who specializes in this and who will help her come up with a plan that helps her feel in control, calm and focused on her goals. And referrals for another mom who has been in her shoes, because this feels so lonely.
I want to cook her a warm, big bowl of rich stew or soup, because chances are she is so focused on feeding her baby, she is not feeding herself.
I want to tell her that breastfeeding, like birth (and life!) isn't black and white or right and wrong and that she can take the good parts, the healthy parts, the happy parts and keep those.
At 14 months postpartum, I want to tell her that I have never exclusively breastfed my son, but that my son is still nursing today, still getting nourishment from my milk and my skin and my eyes and my touch.
I want to tell her all of that and so much more because it matters. She matters. She deserves to know that she is not measured by the ounces in a belly or a bottle, but by her love and commitment to her child.
I want to tell her -- and all women -- you are an incredible mom regardless of how your baby was born or how your baby is fed. We all deserve for someone to tell us that. That sentiment is all that is real. All that matters.
If you are struggling with mood disorders or milk supply, anxiety or birth trauma, a colicky baby or an absent partner, the last ten pounds or a scar that won't disappear, you are not alone. Your story is invaluable and your experience matters. Thank you for being so strong and so amazing.
If you want to share your story (anonymously or named) for a future "Something Real" post, please email me breathandbroth@gmail.com. Every time we tell our stories, we reclaim a part of the narrative, rebuild our confidence, and make a difference for another woman who is struggling to determine what's real, who's out there, and if she is doing ok.
Love, Light + Super Momma Strength to you all,
Ali
My 5 month old nursling, resting and loving his milky time with Momma.