Life as a cow

I had many titles for this post... things like "Jaws" or "Dear God that hurts!" but in the end, I am a cow and that is what matters most.

I had read before that breastfeeding takes a while to get the hang of, but that it's well worth the pain of the first couple weeks... And for my loyal readers (those who haven't given up hope for updates), here is my breastfeeding adventure so far:

We started off on a very poor note. Apparently my nipples aren't exactly, umm... what's the right word? "Erect"? Luckily, they're not inverted, but I never thought I had nipples that would be difficult to latch on to. The things you learn. The things that never used to cross your mind. =)

Anyway, when we got to the Maternal Care Unit at the hospital (our home for a couple days after the baby was born), we asked the nurse if she could help us try to breastfeed the baby. We did not take into account the fact that it was 5:00 am and thus we were near the end of the night shift... a shift that is typically given to newer, less experienced nurses.

Well the nice nurse was more than willing to help out and since I had "short" nipples, she suggested using the breast pump first to pull them out a little. So she attached me to the pump. Sadly, she put on the wrong sized flange and then cranked the pump up really high. Within a few seconds both of my breasts were skinned all the way around the areola. Ah yes, we're off to a good start.

The next couple of days were filled with people trying to help us latch. Ellie had jaundice pretty badly, and so she was particularly sleepy. This created a problem because for the life of us, we could not keep her awake. She could be screaming her little precious head off, but as soon as she touched the skin of my breast, she'd pass out.

Ummm... how am I supposed to feed a baby like that?

So we were doing all sorts of things to try to keep her awake and over and over again, lactation consultants would come into the room, confident that they could show us the error in our ways, only to leave a half an hour later by hesitantly saying "well, you're doing all the right things... keep it up." Umm... but we still can't keep her awake?!

Then there was the lactation consultant who was successful at getting the baby to stay awake, but when I cringed at the pain of the baby's latch, she must have assumed that my pain threshold was low or something because she said "I know that it hurts, but you have to suck it up and get past it." If there is one thing that a future mother should know... it's this: If the latch causes you to do more Lamaze breathing than the labor itself, then something is wrong.

Anyway... when we were sent home, my milk had finally come in (you would have laughed at me if you had seen how happy I was the first time my breast leaked through my clothes... the first and only time I'll be glad for that).

The longer we had Ellie, the better the feeding sessions would go... but it was still painful. She is so cute, yet scary, when she decides she is hungry and is excited that she's going to get food soon. I wish I could type the sounds she makes. "Ah ah ah ah... grrrr... gulp... rarr." Cute yes. Scary, yes.

For a while we had to go to the doctor every day to get her tested for her bilirubin levels (for the jaundice) and every time we went in, we'd ask for a little bit of help with the nursing. One nurse practitioner watched our technique, then man-handled my breasts in a way that I know has never been done before, nor will ever be done again. Her conclusion? "Ah, yes, we have here what we call a 'voracious eater'. She's a good sucker."

Umm... Note to whomever: it is not wise to tell a first time mother that her baby is a "veracious eater". My nipples already wanted to shrivel away at the fear of her mouth approaching them, let alone knowing that she is "veracious!" Images of Jaws come to mind. Literally.

Things have improved, though... I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. We're now to the point where only the initial couple of seconds might hurt, but she'll stay at a breast for 15 minutes or so... which is great. And it only took her a week to get back up to her birth weight. So yay!

If only my nightmares would stop now... Moaning "God it hurts. It hurts!" in my sleep has now replaced the completely bizarre dreams from being tossed into a strange sleep schedule after she was born, but that's for another post.