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But I was a "proven milk producer," to quote my LC's notations on my chart. I had already successfully nursed a child into toddlerhood. What had gone wrong?

      Was it the pitocin?
      Was it the Sudafed I had been taking for my sinus headaches?
     Was it the pacifier I'd found in his bassinette when the nursery had kept him an insanely long time and I went to get him?
     Had they given him a bottle of sugar water or formula without my knowing it?
     Or was something else going on?

I don't know for certain. But that evening, I cried as I made him his first bottle of formula (the hospital I delivered at did not believe in nipple confusion and forced its LC's not to instruct parents in alternate feeding methods other than bottles), and we began an almost 2-month journey of building my supply and teaching him how to latch.

I don't know how I really found the strength to survive those first few difficult weeks. I was told by one friend that I just wasn't trying hard enough. That was a devastating thing to hear -- how could she say that? I was:

          Taking 3 capsules of fenugreek three times daily;
          Taking 3 capsules of blessed thistle three times daily;
          Putting my son to the breast at least 10-12 times daily;
          Following these nursing attempts (which typically went badly) with feeding him suppliments by bottle;
          Following these supplimentary feedings with 15 minutes of double-pumping using a Medela Classic rented pump;
          Praying the Rosary daily, wrapping my son't tiny fist around the Crucifix, begging Mary for her intercession, hoping she'd help me ask her Son for the small miracle of being able to feed my son the way she had fed Him.

By the time I was done with one nurse-suppliment-pump cycle, if I was lucky, I had 15 minutes to allow my nipples to rest before starting over again. And this friend had the nerve to tell me I wasn't trying hard enough??

But my hard work was paying off. Over a period of several weeks, we went from supplimenting with 17 oz of formula daily to supplimenting exclusively with pumped breastmilk. I was even producing a bit more than my son needed, and freezing a few ounces daily.

But now my son was almost 6 weeks old, and still wasn't nursing well directly from me. I had heard that this was a critical age -- a baby who wasn't latching well by that age never would. My LC gently tried to help me get my mind around the idea that I might need to become an exclusively-pumping mom.

I hated the idea. I tried to accept the possibility, but I kept putting my son to the breast a few times a day, taking him to nurse on the bed in his big sister's warm, bright, friendly room, rather than in the other places where I felt stressed by the memory of past failures. Sometimes, he would nurse well. These times kept hope alive for me.

One night, around the time he was two months old, I was feeding him his bedtime bottle, snuggled in our king-sized bed with my husband and daughter, while my husband read the children bedtime stories. He kept spitting the bottle nipple out. I kept trying to get my son to take it. Finally, he turned his head toward my chest and rooted -- so obviously asking to nurse, rather than be bottle fed: "Mom! Get that cold, fake silicone thing out of my face! I want fresh-squeezed!"

That was the turning point. It still wasn't perfect, and we had more issues to contend with such as a dairy sensitivity. But from that night on, he became a fully breastfed baby, so much so that he chose to take only minimal breastmilk by bottle when he started daycare, holding out instead for me.

He is almost 3 years old at this writing, and still nurses several times a day. In the grand scheme of things, 2 months is not a long time. I am so glad I stuck with it and have been able to give him the gift of nursing.

Along the way, I have learned so much. I hope the information I have gathered here to share will help others who want to nurse their children.

Best wishes,
Flavia

Last Updated February 2, 2004