Motherhood/Breastfeeding
How I Forgave Myself When My Baby Failed To Thrive
It was like being on an island alone.
I chose to exclusively breastfeed my baby before she was born. I so desperately wanted to succeed at it. As a first-time mom, I thought it would be an amazing experience.
My darling girl latched on immediately after I gave birth. That sensation was both startling and also a huge relief.
Okay, it’s happening, it’s working — I’m doing it, I thought, triumphantly.
I had skimmed through some books on breastfeeding in my 9th month of pregnancy and figured I’d be able to handle it pretty well. After all, how hard could it be?
That night in the hospital after the birth was an exhausting reality check. They didn’t take my baby away so I could pleasantly rest my weary head on a soft pillow until I was refreshed. Nope. I was on call — and breastfeeding was the only thing on the menu.
A hospital nurse came in that night and checked multiple times to make sure my daughter was latched on correctly and that satisfactory poop was coming out the other end. I had to write on a chart what time I fed my child, for how long, as well as what color and consistency her poop was.
This breastfeeding thing was tiring. I slept maybe 20 minutes at a time — but I was utterly determined.
In the beginning, feeding my baby seemed to go pretty well. Once I left the hospital and went home the whole breastfeeding experience felt as though it was a success. At my daughter’s 2 week check-up, she was doing great.
But after that initial check-up, I noticed that my daughter was crying a lot and became extremely fussy. Was it colic? Was she hungry again?? Was she just gassy? I didn’t know.
I kept breastfeeding and checking her poop obsessively. I finally started referring to all those breastfeeding books I had neglected to read thoroughly while pregnant. Was the poop supposed to be green and if so what shade of green? What if it was yellow? Hard or soft?
Over a few days, my daughter grew increasingly thin. She was long and lean to begin with and I had read on the internet that most breastfed babies were thinner than formula-fed babies. Or were they? Sure, I had read that but as everyone knows when you’re dramatically sleep-deprived and worried, the internet is not always the best place for answers.
I felt like I breastfed my baby constantly. I was pumping frequently and desperately trying to get a few ounces at a time into bags to freeze.
I kept reading about how other moms were overflowing with breast milk and practically pumping full bottles.
Was I a breastfeeding underachiever? Should I supplement?
I had been under the impression that formula was the enemy in the realm of breastfeeding and that if I started to supplement with formula my natural supply of milk would decrease. Being that I was already struggling to produce enough already, that thought terrified me.
And so I pumped and fed and pumped and fed — teetering on the edge of insanity. She was latched, she was drinking, and she was pooping, although I was never sure if it was enough.
When I took my daughter back to the doctor I was not prepared for what I heard.
The doctor told me my daughter was failing to thrive and that I needed to give her formula immediately or she would need to be admitted to the hospital.
I was stunned and devastated. I looked at my husband and felt my face crack into tears. I felt like I had let both him and my daughter down. I had potentially harmed my child by being so stubborn about not supplementing.
I cried deep, heaving sobs of shame all the way home.
We gave my daughter the formula and shortly after that initial formula feeding her weight blossomed. She was soon out of the “danger zone.”
I didn’t give up on breastfeeding though. I breastfed for 10 months total supplementing with a few ounces of formula in the morning and at night. My milk still came and it came in more plentiful than ever.
Looking back, I think the biggest disadvantage I had besides inexperience was not having anyone around me who had breastfed before. My mother never breastfed nor did any of the women in my husband’s family. They couldn’t give me any advice.
It was like being on an island alone.
The sometimes convoluted information on the internet ended up stressing me out more than anything.
In the end, my obsession with exclusively breastfeeding was not healthy for anyone.
Knowing what I know now, I see how important it is for breastfeeding to be discussed openly within our communities. It’s also important that mothers have compassion for one another because we are all different and we all face our unique challenges. Having the desire to breastfeed exclusively is a lot different than actually doing it.
Some mothers like myself are stubborn. We don’t ask for help as often as we should. We fear judgment. We fear failure. We need support and a soft place to fall when we are struggling.
Ultimately, it’s those challenging, heart-wrenching experiences we learn from as mothers that make us stronger. Learning to forgive ourselves for making mistakes can be truly empowering.
And then, with any luck, we can become wise enough to share the knowledge we’ve gained with other women and mothers just like us.
Did you struggle with breastfeeding? Share your experience in the comments…
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