Then Little H arrived and I was turned upside down.
His birth, a moment that I had dreamed about, was drawn out, traumatic and ended in me haemorrhaging. Because of this we missed out on the immediate skin to skin contact that I had just taken as a given, and for the first night he slept in the nursery and was fed formula while I recovered.
The next morning he was brought to me and our breastfeeding journey began. It was so much harder than I had ever thought it would be and what was meant to be the most natural thing in the world did not come naturally to me. Being on the special care ward meant that I had more one to one care (every cloud and all that...) so I was helped with most feeds, my positioning corrected and when I left hospital I felt confident.
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| The journey begins... |
Arriving home my short lived confidence disappeared, Little H would not settle and I couldn't seem to feed him properly. My breastfeeding battle coupled with coming to terms with his birth soon came to a head when we were told to return to hospital and take Little H to the paediatric ward because he had lost more than 10% of his birth weight. After everything that had happened I felt like a failure.
Then something amazing happened, on my final try before I gave in and started topping up with formula (something I have since learnt can be detrimental to breastfeeding, so beware) everything fell into place. Little H latched on, stayed latched on and fell into his first settled sleep since bringing him home. We were finally on our way.
After our very rocky start me and Little H settled into breastfeeding, he started to gain weight quickly and consistently and every weigh in was a pat on the back for both of us. I only expressed if we were going somewhere as I wasn't confident feeding in public. However due to a longer than planned shopping trip I had to feed Little H in an M&S cafe, trying to get him latched on while an elderly couple cooed over him. At the time I (wrongly) felt horribly uncomfortable, hiding Little H under my, thankfully, oversized cardigan. The experience gave me the courage to feed him in public and I have done ever since, only expressing if I have left him for any length of time. If Little H is hungry I will now feed him regardless of where we are and I'm unapologetic for it.
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| My little milk monster |
We have had our moments though, before Little H got his first tooth there was some biting that very nearly had me reaching for the formula but yet again we persevered and as soon as the tooth broke through the biting stopped and never returned.
We're now at a point where I'm thinking of bringing our journey to an end. I'm struggling with the decision as I love breastfeeding , I love the closeness, I love how far we've come and the experience has been incredible, helping me regain confidence in myself and showing me that if I set my mind to something I can achieve it.
I know that a lot of mothers continue breastfeeding well after the first year and I don't have to stop but I think that for me it is time, although my level of certainty in that statement does change depending on my mood. I want my freedom back, well as much freedom as you can have with a, very soon to be, one year old, I want to give Little H some independence away from me and it would be nice to be able to wear dresses again.
However, every time I think about weaning a million and one reasons why I shouldn't come flooding to mind. The current reason/excuse is that Little H is under the weather and all that he want and all that will comfort him is for me to nurse him. How can I deny him the one thing that is guaranteed to make him feel better?
So, I would be very grateful for any advice on how to wean both myself and Little H off breastfeeding because it is definitely going to be emotional!
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