Secondly, this post is likely to be a little Too-Much-Info for some readers, particularly if you know me, are male, or are made uncomfortable by people being too open about physical things.
So, probably that is all of you.
Finally, this post is long. But I make no apologies.
If you are still reading, then consider yourself warned. I'm no longer embarrassed about this stuff, so if you are, and you meet me, then you will feel awkward, but I won't care less.
It Takes a Village
When you have a baby, you very quickly get over being embarrassed or conservative about many things. The words breasts, nipples and poo suddenly become as frequently used as the words coffee, chocolate and sleep. As a breastfeeding mum, you have to get over the weirdness of pulling your boobs out anywhere and everywhere because if you didn't, you would never leave your bedroom, and neither would your baby. As a mum with a new baby, you find yourself being asked by perfect strangers about breastfeeding. Are you breastfeeding? How's it going? Why are you doing/not doing A/B/C? As though it is somehow their business, and it isn't weird to be discussing your nipples with your hairdresser. And if, like me, anything is out of the normal, then be prepared to explain it to everyone.
I am having to use nipple shields to feed my baby. Now to me, the fact that I am breastfeeding her at all is a miracle. I have inverted nipples - the worst my lactation consultant has ever seen apparently - and this means that there is nothing for baby to latch onto. The shields give her the ability to latch, and therefore the ability to feed. Getting this going was a mission and I almost gave up completely at week 2, 3 and 6. In fact, a number of midwives, psychologists and even my lactation consultant actually suggested that perhaps I should consider switching to formula to avoid becoming incredibly overwhelmed and depressed. However, I am notoriously stubborn. If my mum could do it, so could I. By week 7, I went for 24 hours without using a bottle of formula, expressed milk or pumping and I was absolutely elated!
Since then I've been relatively successful, only feeding her formula a handful of times when she was out with her Dad, or on the one night that I went out with my friends. Success! I am incredibly proud of this achievement, as I was convinced it was going to be impossible for me to breastfeed at all, yet here I am. Of course, whenever I pull out the shields, everyone wants to know why. So the secret shame I harboured for most of my life, is now known to all and sundry.
Which is why, as I am now forced to consider mixed feeding in order to regain my sanity, I am feeling incredibly, overwhelmingly conflicted.
Last night I lost it.
I had a complete meltdown. I felt so angry and so frustrated and at my wits end in every sense of the word. I couldn't think straight, I could barely see straight. After 11 weeks of being woken every 1-3 hours for feeding, I'm finally wondering if all those people weren't right from the start. Clearly I am not able to hack the sleep deprivation that goes hand in hand with exclusively breastfeeding. I am angry with my husband for being able to go to work, for going for an hour run once a week, for not being able to find the debit card which was in my bag, for letting her fall asleep on him every night, even though I do that during the day, for not being home with me during the day to help me. I can see how people get the point of wanting to shake their babies, as though that is somehow going to snap them into consciousness and make them realise that if they just went to sleep, everything would be easier.
Which of course, is ridiculous.
She's just 11 weeks old. She is only crying because she is so overtired she can't fall asleep anymore. And he needs to go to work, otherwise we wouldn't be able to afford to live, eat or do anything remotely fun. His runs aren't a way for him to make me feel more isolated, they are helping keep him sane. Which is a good thing. At least one of us needs to be.
I know that all I need to do is say the word, and I too could go have some time to myself. Only, at the moment I feel that this is impossible because I am exclusively breastfeeding. I can't leave her in case she gets hungry, I can't have a few hours in the afternoon or evening where I go out because if she has a bottle of formula, it will mess up my supply.
And so here I am, considering mixed feeding and feeling guilty about it because 'breast is best', and 'formula isn't natural' and 'why aren't you breast feeding your baby?'
But what about 'happy wife, happy life', and 'baby needs a coherent mum' and 'don't be a mombie' and 'sleep deprivation is your biggest trigger for depression'?
It takes a village to raise a child. Baby A deserves to have a mum who isn't crying constantly, or wanting to hit her father, or feeling hard done by and exhausted. She deserves to feel loved, to be happy and see happy. I can't do that alone. If giving her a bottle of formula once or twice a day and sharing the feeds so that I can get an hour more sleep is what it takes to remain sane, how is that any worse than her Dad spending 2 hours less time with her so that he can go for a run maintain his sanity?
It takes a village to keep the parents sane. To give them time to find themselves again, to spend time together, and to exit the baby haze once in a while. It takes a village to look out for them and make sure they are ok. Last night J rang me at 10pm after I text her saying I wanted to walk out. It took 20 minutes, but she managed to calm me down enough to want to apologise to my husband. This morning, A has come round after reading the text I sent her last night, to help me get some rest and to vent a bit. She is currently in the nursery trying to settle Baby A for the third time. In the weekend my whole family arrived out of nowhere, and suddenly my house was clean, and I was able to go get my hair done and have some down time. My parents even left dinner in the fridge so we didn't have to cook that night. I only wish we lived closer to some family so that we could remain saner for longer.
I guess I have to work at building my own village family in order to make up for the fact that we live so far from our real ones. And this pressure on mums about breast feeding needs to end. Yes, it's wonderful and it is the best food for baby, but the mum's need looking after too. It takes a village to remind a Mum to do that. And all too often, in this age of being constantly connected, we are left alone.
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