I never thought I would find myself writing something with this title. But, then again no one ever really knows what parenthood is going to throw them either huh?
With the birth of my first child, I had a rocky but successful breastfeeding relationship. He thrived, although he was “small” for his size and there was often panic about his weight gain at out old pediatrician. Come to find out, he is just going to be small like his mother. I am no giant, standing at 4 foot 10 inches short. But it didn’t help my mom worry or the trips to the lactation consultant that drained out bank account. But in the end, it was all well worth it.
Then I had my second child. Breastfeeding was going well, things were flowing in the hospital despite having a second c-section, and when we got home, that is when it started to get bumpy. I think it was because Ben’s body really started to get milk, and digest. I started to think there was something seriously wrong. He was born at 7 pounds 3 oz and when we went to our first pediatricians appointment post birth, they told me he was 5 pounds 12 oz. I was floored, there was NO way he could be this small. They immediately scheduled a follow up weigh in for one week and said if he had not gained back up to at least his birth weight, then we would have to have blood work done. Which was something I did not want for my new baby.
The week went by, and I was scared to death the whole time. My baby was eating, he seemed to be getting enough, but he would CRY for hours on end.
I in turn adjusted my diet, and then adjusted it some more, and adjusted it again. Still wasn’t working. We went back and he was up to 8 pounds, so I was completely convinced that their scale was wrong. But I discussed the fact that he was constantly crying. Really for any parent, especially the parent of an older child who was a perfect angel, the amount of crying would have been alarming.
Heck it scared the crap out of our family members too!
I continued to adjust my diet, to the point where I got down to a hand full of foods I was living on. 4 to get even more specific. I was miserable, and Ben was still miserable.
I broke down one night, after trying everything I could think of from cluster feeding, to nursing all day, letting him use me as a pacifier, burping him constantly, we tried everything. I sent my husband to the store for a can of formula. And we all slept that night. I woke up constantly thinking my baby was dead. Making sure he was still breathing. I was sure the evil formula did something to him!!!!
The next day it was back to the screaming, so I sent my husband back out to get a different kind of formula. No go again. Back to breastfeeding.
And in a last ditch effort, we called our local WIC office, who also has great breastfeeding support, and I told the woman there what was going on. She suggested one of the formulas that WIC actually gave out.
I again sent my husband to the store, third time is a charm right?
That night again, peace and quiet.
Could it be? Did we figure this boy child out?
Nearly 6 months after this all started, we can sleep at night, make it through the day without screaming for hours on end, and the only way it happened was switching him onto formula. I never though I would say I am thankful for formula, but if I was still listening to that screaming today, I would be in a nut house, not home with my children.
Sometimes…. just sometimes… it is a necessary evil.
Of course breast is best, and no matter what anyone says, it is. There is no questioning it.
Next baby, I hope we can get back on track with Breastfeeding.
That is for sure!