Of Mommyhood and Wifedom: Breastfeeding is Love

Breastfeeding.

The thought of it brings a lot of questions to mind. Do I have milk enough for my baby with this cup size? How do I start? Will my baby accept it? Will he be satisfied by my milk? How I wish I have my mom here with me to help and guide me through it.... And the list goes on.

When I was a first time mom, I feared a lot of things the moment we learned I fell pregnant. Morning sickness, the labor, the delivery, the safety and health of my child to be. Everything was new to me, and my mom isn't here to teach me anything about pregnancy and motherhood. I was scared. I knew I shouldn't be disheartened by my situation, although I've always been longing to hear loving and reassuring advises from my mother. I decided to do things my way and heed the help of Mr. Google. Away I went busying myself searching for answers to my questions, until I came upon What To Expect When You're Expecting and Breastfeeding Made Simple: Seven Natural Laws for Nursing Mothers. Good reads, I thought, next thing I knew I have the actual books at hand with my nose buried in them. I started reading everything I could to prepare myself for the next nine months of pregnancy and to ready myself on what I need to know and learn once my baby has entered the outside world. "Oh, so it's like that.", I said to myself when I came upon how to properly latch a newborn. Easy, I thought.

Or so I thought. Wrong. No, not the book, but me. My firstborn came in the wee hours of November 14, 2009, my 25th birthday. Great! I can finally put into test everything I have read. Keiran was placed onto my chest within the next five minutes he was born. "So it's you...", I greeted him before I drifted off from sheer exhaustion. I was already in the recovery room when I next saw my child, he was perfect. I had him latch on my left breast so he could have his much needed colostrum. It was hard. I couldn't get him to properly latch right away and I was so scared I might break him or something if I insist on making him latch. At last, he obliged and suckled to his content. What a relief it was, my baby did not reject me. It was euphoric, I am a mother now.

My first child, his first smile after having a taste of mommy's milk.

An hour later, I wheeled into my room. Rest, I can finally rest and replenish all my lost energy from pushing. I had my fill after my doctor gave me the green signal and then drifted off to sleep again. Hours passed and I was awoken with sad news. Baby Keiran wasn't well. He became dehydrated from our long and tedious labor and delivery. They had to hook him up to an IV to so he can can his fluids and antibiotics. Antibiotics? I panicked. What happened to my baby? He was just smiling hours ago when we tried to breastfeed. Apparently, baby Keiran was given formula milk while I was asleep. The pediatrician decided to supplement my child with milk that wasn't mine and without my knowledge. According to the doctor, baby started vomiting profusely and started to refuse any feedings, the more he became dehydrated. I was fuming mad, I was furious. I tried to get up and order my way to the nursery to see my poor child and give him my milk. I failed. It slipped my mind that my painkillers aren't taking effect on me at all, I could risk opening my fresh stitches and be sewn up again down there. Being allergic to paracetamol and analgesic has a lot of cons, and that time, it was the greatest disadvantage ever. I cried, screamed at the nurses asking for a higher dosage of painkillers so I could tend to my poor child. Every sting of my stitches equated my tears and heartbreak at not being able to rush to my child's side.

I prayed, so fervently. I need to be by my baby's side despite all the pain I have. After praying, I gathered all my strength and begged to be wheeled to the nursery. Thankfully they granted my request. The moment I got to the nursery and saw my helpless child hooked to a tube of IV, my heart broke a million pieces and scattered on the floor. I felt so helpless too, but I had to be strong for him. Inside the nursery, I couldn't wait to hold my dear little boy in my arms. I started to offer my breast as soon as I had him in my embrace. He wouldn't accept it, he seemed so tired from all the vomiting he had. Gently stroking his cheeks and humming a lullaby to him, I offered him my bosom once again, and gladly he accepted. Tears rolled down my cheeks, that latch meant hope. Soon he'll be better. As tears graced my face, blood trickled down my thighs onto the floor. I almost fainted while baby was cradled in my arms. I forgot to sit and take things easy before I nursed him, I was too eager that I forget how weak I still was. Seeing my little boy feed gave me the strength I knew I did not have.

From my two days stay in the hospital, I patiently went back and forth to the nursery every three hours to nurse my child and see his progress to myself. I did not mind the pain I still had, what's important is for my child to recuperate. Promising as it is, Keiran showed progress. He soon developed interest in feeding and he stopped vomiting already. When it was time to go home, his pediatrician advised us that baby still needed to stay. She wanted him to finish off the remaining medications and to mae sure he's 100% well before he's discharged. Again, my heart broke. The thought of coming home with empty arms drove me into tears. I wanted to bring him home and take care of him. It was my husband who was able to chide me down and convince me that it was what's best for our little one. I obliged with a heavy heart.

For the next 6 days our baby stayed in the hospital, my dear husband and I patiently went back and forth to the nursery for our Keiran's feeding times. It was tedious and tiring especially for a new mother who was still trying to recover and should be staying still in bed. We didn't mind. I was for our dear child. It was in one of those six days that we learned how good our baby's progress was becoming, until one day a nurse gave him formula again. He started to vomit once again, two days before he was scheduled for discharge. It was sickening mad. Our baby was well on our way to full recovery and then that?! We were so anxious to bring him home already but the doctor had to order another three more days for him to stay. Anxiety was killing me. Be patient. My husband said to me. That was too much to ask of an impatient person who was already just trying to be patient all those days. "This isn't just about you anymore, it's about the baby.", I said to myself.

Our much awaited day finally came, we picked him up from the hospital dressed him in his coming home clothes and homeward we went. It was a joyous moment, he's finally here with us. As soon as we stepped into our room, I nursed him. Oh how much we miss each other. He was so eager and longing. It was bliss, pure bliss. I couldn't contain myself and started crying again, this time tears of joy. Nobody can ever keep him away from me, nobody will ever separate us again.

Days later, on his first visit to the doctor, his pediatrician advised to try formula again to see if baby would react to it again. I wanted to say no, but as a first time mom, I didn't know much about being one so we obliged. Baby Keiran started to show fussyness and had terrible rashes on his bum even if we change his nappies each and every time he pees. (Yes, those were disposable diapers and as first time parents, we thought that we should change it every single time he pees, haha.) Off we went to the doctor once more, worried again. We were informed then that baby Keiran was lactose intolerant. What the heck is that?, I asked myself. It turns out that Keiran is not capable of digesting lactose, a substance found in milk. And so we were advised to give him lactose free formula instead. My eyebrows furrowed. I can't believe this. He was ok when I he solely had my milk, everything went wrong since he was given formula and now they still want him to have formula only that is lactose free? I started to have doubts in his doctor and changed pediatricians right after that. With the next doctor, we learned that yes, Keiran is lactose intolerant and it was best to give him breast milk and no other. Aha!!! My instinct was right! Happy with our new doctor, our breastfeeding journey began it's much awaited course. Sleepless nights, sore nipples, engorged breasts, leaky shirts and all, we experienced it all and Keiran started to show signs of his good health coming back. He became a happy baby, despite the fact that he developed allergies early in his life, he was healthy all throughout.

After months of breastfeeding Keiran, our journey came to a stop. The day he started gnawing and biting on my nipples, I got scared again. The shooting pain weakened my will to continue breastfeeding him. I felt like a failure for I was not prepared for it, more so in enduring it. This saddens me until now. Regrets. I wish I was brave enough to go on. I wish I was able to nurse him until he turns two or so. But I became a coward.

Four years after, a new addition came to our family. Yes, baby Keiran is now a big brother to little Kollin. A new beginning, another chance. This time around, I made sure everything was under my control. We had little Kollin with me all the time and made sure our instructions are clear and heard that we strictly demand for no formula or any other supplements to be given to our second child. We had the new baby roomed in to make sure he was under our care 24 hours a day. This time I was fully prepared. Or so I thought. My body did not cooperate the way I planned it to. Though I was able to nurse him, little Kollin did not seem to get satisfied. He gets hungry too often and rarely wets his diaper. We were thinking of supplementing already, but no. We shan't give up. We politely asked our yaya if she could be baby's wet nurse for the times my milk is not sufficient yet. That meant for her to nurse Kollin in between his feeding sessions with me. That also meant more rest for me and the baby. It was an embarrassing defeat for me. But we had to do something about it.It was a good thing our yaya is still breastfeeding her then 5 month old baby, and that time she was engorged already for not being able to nurse her child overnight so she could take care of me and our newborn. It was so kind of her to grant our request. Soon enough, I have recovered my strength and my milk finally came in on the third day. It was ecstatic, at long last I can nourish my child solely.

Our breastfeeding journey hasn't been easy like what I have read in the books. There are days when everything is okay, but there are also times when things just suddenly plummet down. For those days when I doubt myself and my body's capacity, I searched for answers and did my own solutions to boost my milk supply. I learned to eat more healthy food for my child's nourishment through my breast and started to learn other things that will help us throughout our journey. I have learned throughout our journey how breastfeeding bonds a mother and a child. Not only does it give optimum health benefits for baby and the mother, it also builds relationships within the family. Stronger ties are one of the benefits breastfeeding gave us, the support my husband gives us and the awareness of our Keiran who's now a toddler are priceless. Eight months on, baby Kollin is still exclusively breastfed until he started eating solids and keiran is now back to trying mommy's breastmilk. Healthy and never been sick, breastfeeding has allowed us to enjoy parenting with less worries and doubts in our children's well- being. All the sacrifices, I would gladly endure for breastfeeding my children. It's all about love for a child.