I'll start this by saying......Breastfeeding is hard!!! My adventure started out well. I attended the breastfeeding class at the hospital, got all of the information I needed, got my questions answered, and was feeling pretty good about breastfeeding.
Kaitlyn was born and immediately knew what to do. Our lactation consultant came in to observe on our second and third days at the hospital and proclaimed that she hadn't seen a baby with a more perfect latch. I was sore, but chalked it up to getting used to having a little piranha latched on to my chest. When our pediatrician came in to do his assessments, Kaitlyn was always feeding. Dr. Gasseling just did his assessments while she was eating.
We were dismissed from the hospital and headed home. The next few days went well. For the first week, it felt like all I got done was feeding Kaitlyn and sleeping. She wanted fed every two hours.......on the dot. Nursing took about 25 minutes a side so by the time she was done feeding and I changed her diaper, I had an hour before we started the process over again. When Kaitlyn was about 3 days old, I noticed my chest was getting more painful, was bleeding and scabbed over, had a torn nipple, and no amount of nipple cream or soothing pads would help. Each time she latched on, my breath would catch and tears would spring to my eyes. I knew something wasn't right, but just assumed it was something I was doing wrong. I kept reading my breastfeeding book from class, thinking I wasn't getting her to latch on right
My chest got more tender and more sore. I just chalked it up to getting used to nursing. During my classes, they emphasized that nursing shouldn't hurt....there should just be 'pressure'. When we took Kaitlyn to her one week appointment, she had gained weight (right back up to her birth weight) and was doing great!! The doctor asked how breastfeeding was going and (stupidly) answered 'okay'. I didn't want to admit that I was a failure.
Since we were in Kearney already, I thought it would be a good idea to stop by the hospital and talk to the lactation consultant to see what I was doing wrong. I wasn't able to get in contact with them as they were both out of the office, but left a message for them to call me. We headed home. I got a call later that evening from the lactation consultant and was able to talk through it with her for a bit. She suggested giving my chest a break and pumping. She also reminded me that they offered a weekly support group on Tuesdays (the next day).
After I got off the phone with her, I went upstairs to grab my pump. I remember thinking, "I really don't want to pump. I'd rather just feed her, but I'll try it." I'm pretty sure a man invented the breast pump......It was the most horrible thing. My father is a dairy producer, so I was able to relate to those cows.......I'd much rather feed my baby directly EXCEPT for the fact that it didn't hurt as much as Kaitlyn nursing.
Because Mitch had to go back to work on Tuesday, my mom came to stay with us on Tuesday. She didn't know what kind of hormonal mess she was walking into. After a week of nursing that wasn't going well, I was a mess. I continued to pump for every other feeding, alternating with nursing. On Tuesday afternoon, I fell into bed and wept.......I didn't know what to do or what I was doing wrong. Should I just call it quits?? I couldn't. Everyone had stressed the importance of breastfeeding. Giving my daughter formula would feel like I failed her.....Like I didn't love her enough to deal with a little pain. Why couldn't I do this?!?!?
Knowing I couldn't fall asleep, I walked back downstairs and announce to mom that we needed to go to Kearney. She panicked. I'm sure the image of her daughter in tears and clearly distressed got her to think the absolute worst. Seeing the panic on her face made me quickly explain my reasoning. I needed to go to that support group!
I called Mitch and my emotions ran high again. I was bawling, still feeling like a complete failure, and told him my plan to go to Kearney....He too thought that something was gravely wrong. I'm pretty sure he was in his pickup within the first minute of talking to him, but I calmed down enough to tell him why.
After deciding to go to Kearney, I was calmly at peace. I knew that they would be able to help me.
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