What to Do When You Hate to Breastfeed

I wrote in my previous post my experience with nursing aversion.  It hit me out of the blue, because I was so deeply committed to child-led weaning.  It was so, so hard, both physically and emotionally.  We got through it, though, and I found that there were some specific things that helped.

Water.  I don't think I ever guzzled that much water in my life.  If I wasn't fully hydrated, nursing was excruciating.  I learned to drink all the time, even if I didn't feel thirsty.  It is easy to get so caught up in taking care of everything and everyone that you neglect yourself.  Don't.  My kidlets actually got into the habit of bringing my a glass of water when they asked to nurse.  :)

Rest.  Yeah, I know. It is the impossible dream, and you don't even sleep long enough to have a dream.  But seriously, make this a priority.  Your hormones, milk production and emotional ability to regulate yourself are all tied into this, so do what you have to do to make it happen.

Eliminate the worst nursing session.  I was so afraid of weaning when my milk supply was already next-to-non-existent that I didn't want to set limits.  However, I could see a pattern.  During the morning, I didn't really mind nursing.  Even night-wakings weren't bad.  It was the evening times when I was already drained (in every sense of the word) that were hardest.  So I let my husband take over.  It kept my sanity and willingness to nurse at other times, and helped my children and husband become closer than ever.

Buy new bras.  If my bras were loose at all, it made it much worse.  I took to wearing exercise bras 24/7.  Not a fan of the uniboob look, but it was so much more comfortable.

Let go of the guilt.  I felt like a terrible mother.  There was so much shame.  I loved my baby so much and wanted so sincerely to continue breastfeeding, yet my feelings and thoughts were so horrible.  In subsequent pregnancies, I refused to take on that burden of guilt.  Instead, I congratulated myself for being a loving mom, and for doing what I thought was best.  I also looked objectively at weaning, without berating myself or accusing myself of being false to my ideals.  I never did wean, but it was on the table as an option.

Watch hormones.  I found that the culprit behind my nursing aversion was estrogen.  Any time my estrogen levels would spike, so would the aversion to nursing.  Understanding that was a huge key for me.  I also found that when I eat soy or absorb too much lavender, my estrogen levels go up.  Completely eliminating soy from my diet and giving up my favorite lavender oil bath soak helped a lot.  If you are on hormonal birth control or other things are going on in your menstrual cycle, that can definitely trigger aversion.  Even knowing when it was the result of hormonal shifts instead of something else made it easier to bear and to see an end point to the aversion.

Talk to another tandeming mom.  Hearing that I was not the only mom to experience this helped so much.  Reading how common this was in Adventures in Tandem Nursing by Hilary Flower was good, too.  You are not alone, and this does not make you a bad mom.

Set limits if needed.  It is OK to cut short a nursing session if you need to, even if they cry.  Shower love, understanding and empathy, but feel free to maintain your limits.  Think of it this way: do you want to teach your children to ignore uncomfortable feelings in their body to please someone else?  On the other hand, if you have decided freely that this is something you believe is worth doing, then go ahead.  Some days, I cut back; other times, I want ahead and let them nurse as much as they wanted.  Most days were a bit of both.

Self-talk.  Tell yourself all the things you like about breastfeeding.  Remind yourself of the benefits.  Remind yourself how precious your nursling is.  Distract yourself during nursing sessions with a good book or some surfing.  Tell yourself all the reasons why you have a choice and this is right for you.  And if you stop believing it, then consider cutting back more.  It doesn't have to be all or nothing.

This too, shall pass.  It lasted about a year for me the first time.  It seemed like a long time, and I was worried that it would color all of my memories of nursing.  That was probably part of the reason I persisted--I hoped to someday get back to our previous enjoyment of nursing.  We did.  And once I figured out my triggers, it was much, much milder in subsequent pregnancies, and only lasted a few weeks.

At this point, I have been breastfeeding for more than seven years, and I figure I probably have at least three more to go.  Who knows?  I am not a martyr mom.  I know that breastfeeding can be tough, but I also know that it is so very, very worth it.  I am really, really glad that I persevered through the rough times and that the joy came back.  But I also know that there are many ways to show love to our children, and that weaning does not mean the end of our special bond.  It is just a new season of trust and sharing and love and joy.  Wherever you are on your breastfeeding journey, know that you have already given your child a tremendous gift. 

I Hated Breastfeeding

Yes, really.  I have been breastfeeding for more than seven years now, but for a year, I hated it.  Surprised?  Yeah, in all my posts about breastfeeding, I have never devoted one to nursing aversion.  Even when I blogged about nursing through pregnancy, tandem nursing and triandem nursing, it was just a passing mention.  It isn't a secret, really.  I think that like some of my fellow breastfeeding mamas, I just get caught up in the benefits or the nursing in public controversy, or even the early obstacles to breastfeeding, and had never bothered to address what happens when, after more than a year of happy breastfeeding, it becomes something you hate.

The first few weeks of breastfeeding are notorious for being difficult.  You and your baby are both learning how it works, how to latch, etc.  You are sleep deprived and hormonal.  It can be rough.  Then, it all falls into place, you and baby work out a rhythm and it becomes a wonderful, snuggle-filled, oxytocin-boosting way to meet your baby's needs.  If, like me, you become pregnant before your baby is ready to wean, you may decide to continue to breastfeed through the pregnancy and beyond.

I was aware of all the recommendations to breastfeed for a minimum of two years, so I had committed to myself to nurse that long.  I also knew that the American Academy of Pediatrics had deliberately chosen not to set an upper limit to the duration of breastfeeding, and that all the other organizations recommended continuing as long as the mother and baby wanted.  I believed that it was important to respect my child's readiness and not wean before she was finished.  I also knew that breastfeeding through pregnancy was safe, and might even help my toddler to avoid jealousy of the new baby.  Sounded good.

I also knew that many women experienced a drop in supply towards the end of the first trimester, and that some babies decide to wean because of changes in the milk, or the decrease in amount of milk.  I was really, really worried that my daughter would be one of those.  Like most moms that bring a sibling into the life of their baby, I was concerned about the transition, and wanted to do everything possible to reassure her and meet her needs.  Nursing was such a special, love-filled time for us.  She would laugh delightedly just before latching on, and I was so happy to be able to give her something she wanted and needed.  But it changed.

The changes were both physical and emotional.  My nipples were sore, regardless of her latch.  Then as the milk started to dry up, so did my emotional well. The creepy-crawlies hit.  I don't know how to describe it if you have never experienced it.  Maybe like a million ants on you.  I don't know.  I wanted to scream and shriek, "Get off me!"  It was awful.  I would grit my teeth, and try to concentrate on anything except the horrible sensations.  I was afraid that if I limited her too much, she would wean completely, so I endured it as much as I could.

People expect pregnant women to complain of backaches, tiredness, swollen ankles and things like that.  But I didn't feel like I could complain about this.  Most people thought I was crazy for doing it to begin with.  If I opened my mouth and let on how much it was bothering me, they would reasonably suggest I wean.  And I still didn't want to do that.  So I kept it to myself, and even with my husband I was reluctant to express just how loathsome it seemed.

And the guilt!  Oh, the guilt!  How could I feel this way about something that was so important to my daughter?  What if she sensed my feelings?  Would she feel rejected?  Would it actually be better to wean her than to continue doing something that felt so negative?

Those are important questions, and I would never presume to answer them for another nursing mom.  I agonized over them.  I prayed.  I thought.  I went back and forth.  Ultimately, I kept reaffirming that this was a choice that I was making, and that I was doing what I wanted to do because I believed it was worth it.

It got easier when the colostrum came in.  It got easier still once my son was born and there was an abundance of milk.  Seeing the joy on her face as she gulped leche is still one of my favorite memories.  But, the feelings persisted, although much less intensely than during the pregnancy.  There were times when I would turn my face as she latched on because I didn't want her to see the tension in my expression.  Then there were other times when I enjoyed it as much as before the pregnancy, where we smiled tenderly into each other's eyes.

Gradually, those times became more frequent and the icky feelings disappeared.  For the last year and a half that she nursed, I was able to welcome her nursing wholeheartedly without any reservations.  She eventually weaned in the last trimester of my third pregnancy, a few months after turning four.  I went on to nurse through two more pregnancies (nursing two kidlets while pregnant) and for the last nine months I have had three nurslings.

I was really worried that those feelings would come back in subsequent pregnancies, but although dry nursing was always uncomfortable, it was never as bad as the first time around.  In my last pregnancy it wasn't an issue at all, at least in part because of my coping strategies.  I share all the things that I learned to make it easier in this post.  :)

If you are nursing through a pregnancy, hugs to you.  If you are going through nursing aversion, please let go of any guilt so that you can objectively evaluate what is best for your family.  I can say in all honesty that I am very, very glad that I stuck it out.  Those feelings went away and breastfeeding was even better after having worked through that.  The benefits were totally worth it for us.  But if it is different for you, that is OK.  I know how hard it can be, and would never judge another mom for choosing differently.  Your experience is your own, not mine.

I know that it is hard to talk about, because it is hard to tell your fellow breastfeeding advocates that you hate to breastfeed, and you are probably already feeling judged by others for nursing while pregnant to begin with.  I want to give you an ear and a hug and no criticism.   If you decide to wean, that it OK.  I also want to give you hope and encouragement.  It does get better and it can eventually result in tremendous joy.

Note:  I decided to include this post in the Tandem Nursing Blog Hop, because I wish someone had shared it with me my first time through.  Here is the linky to more tandem posts:

My Parenting Bookshelf--Pregnancy/Birth

For some women, it's shoes. For me, it's parenting books. I read every one I can get my hands on. Whether I agree with them or not, I find them fascinating. I didn't start out collecting them on purpose. The first couple of weeks after my eldest was born, I started worrying about breastfeeding. Was I making enough? Was I doing it right? I picked up a couple of books.

Then, after a horrendous experience with a child abuse manual (TTUAC), I stumbled across a Sears' Baby Book for 90% off (changing editions). I started getting more books on development and gentle discipline. When Joel had the bad reactions to vaccinations, I found several books on that topic. Once we decided to do a natural birth with Elena, I got several books on that.

By the time our fourth was here, I already had shelves full of books that have helped me tremendously. Like old friends, when I need advice, ideas, or reassurance that things are normal, I go back to many of my favorites.

Since there are too many to share in one post (I read a *lot*) I'm going to break it up by topic and share pregnancy/birth this time, breastfeeding another, gentle discipline, etc. Some will overlap, of course. There are no doubt many goods ones I've missed, but here is a list of some of the best:

Ina May's Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin
Hands down, my favorite. I grew up with a lot of horror stories surrounding birth, and it was amazing to read so many happy, peaceful birth stories. The section with her advice and techniques was practical and easy to remember.

Orgasmic Birth by Elizabeth Davis and Debra Pascali-Bonaro
The title had me both skeptical and intrigued, but the actual book is very good. Again, positive stories and good advice.

Adventures in Tandem Nursing: Breastfeeding through Pregnancy and Beyond by Hilary Flower
When I became pregnant with Joel, Ariana was still nursing at least 8 times in 24 hours. I didn't want to wean her, but was hearing a lot of comments that suggested health risks, etc. This book is exceptionally well researched and gave me all the info I needed to nurse through pregnancy. I also appreciate the real-life stories. Nursing through pregnancy and tandeming can be emotionally and physically challenging, and she handled that with empathy, encouragement and no guilt trips.

Also-reads:
There are several others that I read from libraries, etc, but don't actually own, either because I didn't have the money to purchase them at the time, or whatever.

Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin. The hippy-lingo made me smile, and Ina May is excellent.

The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth by Henci Goer
Tons of research and info. Not as light as some of the others, but definitely worth the read!

The Pregnancy Book and The Birth Book by the Sears. The Sears books were my first introduction into parenting according to my heart. I was so anxious to do things the "right way" and they were the first voice to give me authoritative, researched-based permission to cosleep, to breastfeed as often and as long as my daughter wanted, to respond to her without suspicion.

There were many others whose specific titles I can't recall. Some fantastic ones were lent to me by my midwife on active birth, and a couple that are mentioned in my previous pregnancy/birth/homebirth posts.

There were also, of course, some not-so-great books. I *loved* The Girlfriend's Guide books by Vicki Iovine during my first pregnancy. It was entertaining and fit perfectly with my preconceptions. After more research, I was in an entirely different mindset, however.

I read one moronic book on easy labor that was essentially an entire book on getting an early epidural, blindly following any and all suggestions by any medical personnel and being as convenient as possible for the hospital system. There was no research or helpful info other than saying that you are not being a good little girl if you ask questions or do anything without the maximum level of intervention and profit to the hospital.

There were a couple of others that just distilled all the columns from mainstream parenting magazines and said, "Well, you can *try* for an unmedicated birth, buuuuuut, you probably won't make it. Still, it doesn't hurt to learn some techniques to use while you are waiting for the epidural. Eat right and exercise right during pregnancy, etc." Generic stuff. And of course, there are a few that emphasize all the possible birth defects and complications (except complications that result from routine interventions). The "What to Expect" type of book. After my first pregnancy, I just read the weekly development of the fetus stuff and skipped the rest.

All of the books contributed in different ways to each of my birth experiences. Especially in my last two births, I learned a lot from some wonderful authors.

Next post: your baby is here, now what? books. :)

Bigger is...better?

Or at least, not bad. I should give a disclaimer, I suppose. I am not a medical professional. Still, after the recent birth of our beautiful daughter, who happened to weigh 9 pounds and 6 ounces, I've been rethinking our view of appropriate sizes for babies in this culture, and I am wondering if perhaps it is just that: cultural.

The OB who assisted my midwife made several comments about potential size, which in retrospect were probably leading up to a warning about her being too big to be born vaginally. At the time, however, I was too focused on giving birth to read anything into it. She is our fourth, and in my experience, subsequent babies tend to be larger. She had measured on target, and I didn't have GD, so I wasn't going to waste energy worrying. Also, I had read so many accounts of home births where healthy babies were born weighing nine or ten pounds or more that I didn't see a large baby as being a problem.

Our society expects babies to weight around seven pounds. Of course, a couple of generations ago, we expected them to be around six pounds. I think there were a lot of things that influenced that: many women were still smoking and drinking during pregnancy, and they were limiting total weight gain to 15 pounds or so during pregnancy. The mothers themselves were smaller, not just in weight but also in height.

Now there are still many women who restrict their weight gain in pregnancy, not by following healthy diets, but by limiting food intake. The high number of false positives in standard glucose testing causes many women to go on diets in pregnancy, and there are still plenty of OBs out there who warn women against gaining much weight or who automatically schedule C-sections based on their best guess of the baby's size. Add to this the fact that most hospital births take place with the woman flat on her back, which causes her pelvic opening to be 30% smaller than in other positions, which likely contributes to the myths about women being unable to deliver larger babies.

In reading numerous accounts of homebirths where women followed healthy eating guidelines, but didn't otherwise restrict their caloric intake, and gave birth in whatever position they wished (almost never on their backs), I have been struck by the significant number of babies that were well over nine pounds. They were healthy babies, their mothers did not have diabetes, they were birthed naturally without complications, but they were generally larger than babies born under standard OB care.

What if that is actually normal, perhaps even optimal? What if smaller babies are more a result of our attempts to restrict birth weight rather than a reflection of what is most healthy for the babies and mothers? Anecdotally, I can say that the larger babies I've known of (including my own) tend to be more content, sleep better, are healthier and are easier babies than those who are born smaller.

It would be very interesting to see research comparing both models of pregnancy care, birth weights and outcomes.

How sweet it is!

Since becoming a parent, I've had a lot of practice in thinking for myself, doing my own research, and coming to my own conclusions. The truth is, though, that I am an approval-junkie. Even when the rational side of me is convinced that I have made the correct choice, if anyone in a position of authority disapproves, I get a little stressed.

I was under the care of an OB/GYN for my first three pregnancies, and had a wonderful doctor. There was mutual respect between us, and he treated me like an adult. I was also pleased as I did my own learning to see that we matched up pretty well. He encouraged me to keep breastfeeding through pregnancy as long as my children and I wanted. When I failed the one-hour glucose test all three times, he didn't panic. His nurse, however, was a different story.

Her expression when she found out I was still nursing was priceless, and provided me with a great deal of inner amusement. Her response to the glucose test was a lot stronger, though, and not nearly as much fun for me. The first time around, I took the three hour test and passed, but she warned me strongly that since I had failed the one-hour, I still needed to do everything that a mom with gestational diabetes would do, except take insulin. I diligently followed all the advice, and stressed out constantly about every bite I took. I dreamed about food every night, and battled cravings every day.

Ariana was born weighing 7lbs even, with no sugar issues whatsoever. When I became pregnant with Joel, and failed the one hour test again, I asked my doc if I could just go straight to the diet, etc, and skip the three hour test. It had taken more than nine needle-pokes to get blood the first time and I had felt sick all day from the nasty syrup. I really didn't want to go through all that in a three hour test (What? 27 tries with the needle???) *with* a toddler! He said that it would be perfectly fine. The nurse gave me a long list of all the possible complications and some dire warnings again, and once again I went through the tension and cravings, feeling hungry every minute. Joel was 6 lbs 12 oz, and no sugar issues, either.

When I failed the one hour test with Elena, I asked again to bypass the three hour test. Again, my OB was unconcerned, the nurse was not. I got regular A1C checks, which were always normal. I had done enough reading at this point to have a better idea of the true value (or lack thereof) of the typical US version of the tolerance tests, and I knew I had the support of my doctor. Still, all the warnings would echo in my head. If you have taken a lot of pictures, you probably are well aware that whatever object you are looking at most closely is usually in the center of the frame. Constantly focusing on carbs kept them prominently in my mind, and the nagging worry that the nurse might be right didn't help.

This time around, I was a little nervous about the sugar issue, knowing what an ordeal it has been in the past. The hospital midwife that we had considered in the beginning made it clear that she sided with the former nurse and that this time around there would be no option on the three hour test. I knew my homebirth midwife was more up-to-date on current research and thought she would take a different approach, but nervous habits are hard to break.

What a difference the right midwife makes! She moniters our measurements at each appointment, but there was none of the stress or dire warnings from previous pregnancies. Rather than drinking the horrible sugar concoction on an empty stomach, she gave me a glucometer and had me take my readings following my normal routine. There was competence and security, but no anxiety-provoking, stern lecture on endangering my baby.

Guess what? The glucose levels were perfectly normal! No problems at all. I can't explain what a relief it is. Even though I knew I had research on my side before, there was always that niggling doubt in the back of my mind that maybe my sugar levels were out of whack. It is so nice to know that I have "proof" this time around that doing what I normally do is OK. And I suspect that the peace and lack of stress about my glucose levels can only be good for both me and the baby. Of course, I don't plan to go crazy with junk food and sugar snacks--that certainly wouldn't be good for us, either!--it is so much more peaceful not to try to make calculations over every single bite I take.

Blessings on you, Heather! You have made this pregnancy very sweet, indeed!

A fashion rant

Those of you who know me in real life are probably giggling incredulously already. I am one of the least qualified people in the world to demonstrate any knowledge of or regard for fashion. Until I graduated from college, I basically lived in baggy T-shirts and jeans. Once I began teaching, my wardrobe was a simple rotation of black and khaki slacks with some solid colored blouses. I could probably sum things up by saying that my interest in shoes is so minimal that the only heels I have are ones my mother passed on to me about 14 years ago, and that they have been supplemented by a pair of brown sandals and one of black for summer, as well as a pair each of black and brown boots for winter (the brown boots were also given to me, around twelve years ago).

I appreciate other people who dress well. I am not sure exactly what caused my own fashion sense to become so terribly stunted. I could blame homeschooling, or not having extra money to keep up with trends while I was growing up, but I've met many homeschooled and/or not-wealthy families that are stylishly dressed. I think it is something similar to my issue with depth perception. I just don't have an eye that puts things together that way.

So what has aroused my ire? Maternity clothes. Now, I know that if I were willing to shop at better stores (aka pay more money) I would have more options. But, this is most likely my last pregnancy, and I don't particularly want to invest a lot of money in clothes that I will only wear for a few months. I've been able to use a lot of stuff that I had before, but two of the previous pregnancies ended in winter, and I am not the same size as I was in the summer one. At home, I tend to wear extra large mens' T-shirts and sleep pants, but unfortunately, that is not considered acceptable professional attire for work. With the warm weather I've been looking for short-sleeved shirts, and my temperature has risen even higher.

I found a few blouses that had nice fabric and colors that I liked OK, but the cut! They resembled doll clothes from several decades past. I tried a couple on and looked like an extremely large two year old. Puffy little sleeves, ruffles, bows--ick. I found some others that had a more adult style, but it was a bit...too adult. Perhaps I should add that I am extremely generously endowed across the bosom. Lactation has nothing to do with size, but if it did, I could nurse septuplets with ease. I am used to having to adjust for that. As I tried on top after top in assorted sizes, they either had weird lines that came only half way down my chest, bisecting my boobs horizontally, or they were so low cut that I could have breastfed my kidlets without even adjusting my shirt at all. Yes, I am an outspoken lactavist, but I don't need to be virtually topless to do it! I even found several shirts that managed to combine all three offenses--baby doll touches with a plunging neckline still meant for someone with smaller breasts.

Finally, I just started looking in the plus size section. Some of the same problems were present there, too, of course, but I found two very reasonably priced blouses that fit perfectly and were comfortable. It was a start, at least. I need another pair of pants, though. I have a black pair that fit, but need a brown or beige pair. Who knows, maybe I might get wild and branch out. Anyone want to be a fashion consultant for me? Allow me to add that if you nominate me for What Not to Wear, I would be far more grateful than humiliated. :)

It's a Girl!

We didn't get our ultrasound until Good Friday, because it is difficult to get a diagnostic ultrasound without using a traditional OB. However, my doctor is a big fan of homebirth (had 11 nieces and nephews born at home! :)) and was happy to order one for me.

Carlos was off, so we all got to go together. Baby wasn't cooperating too much positionally at first, so it took a little longer than I had anticipated. Having read about some of the possible dangers of ultrasound, I was thinking of actually telling her not to worry about gender and just do the essentials. She got everything she needed (and was surprised as Ariana read the captions for the cerebellum and other shots). Then Baby flipped around and she declared that we are having a little girl.

In every pregnancy so far, other people have seemed to be much more emotionally invested in the gender of the baby than Carlos or I. We accept the baby for whoever he or she is from the beginning and avoid focusing too much on whether it is a boy or girl until we know. (Of course, we have one of each, which makes that easier). The funny thing is, this time, more than any other, we all kind of had the impression that it was going to be a boy. It is the first time that we have been surprised.

Don't get me wrong--we are delighted with another girl, too. But it did remind me that one of the first things that I feel like God spoke to me about this baby is that there would be some surprises. So now, is the surprise that we were wrong, or that the ultrasound was wrong (or incorrectly interpreted, or whatever)?

I don't know, but we will be happy regardless of the outcome. We had already decided on Rafael for a boy (middle name uncertain, but we were leaning toward Alejandro). For a girl, Carlos loves the name Anastacia, I like Graciela, and we both really like Eliana (although with Ariana and Elena already, Eliana may be a bit much of a muchness). Suggestions are always welcome!