The Breastfeeding Diaries...
This one from Bec made me cry...
I am Bec, I blog at www.beetrootandgherkins.blogspot.com about my children Monty (3yrs) and Blossom (7 months) both of whom I breastfed and this is my story….
I’m not going to deny it. I struggled with breastfeeding Monty. On the day my milk came in I had comedy boobs. I looked like Jordan but without the massive bank balance and pink horse box. I became so engorged with milk that there was nothing for Monty to latch onto and my nipples were cracked, sore, bleeding and painful. I began to dread every feed.
I was in so much pain the midwife suggested I expressed and fed Monty either from a syringe or one of those thimble cups. She also booked me in with a breastfeeding counsellor whilst muttering something about having enough milk for twins.
Engorgement is horrible. It’s like trying to latch a baby onto an apple. No chance. So I dutifully began to express for the first tie and sobbed my heart out as the bottle filled with blood.
The counsellor never turned up the next day and in the end I gritted my teeth, suffered and got on with it, stamping my feet and swearing with every feed. Eventually it got better but I don’t remember enjoying it.
When Monty was seven weeks old I got mastitis. I felt so ill I decided to give up breastfeeding as I was exhausted and just needed the break. In all honesty though I didn’t really know what I wanted. No sooner had I stopped I was so sad and regretted it terribly. So my nine week old baby and I started again.
Sounds crazy? I kept putting Monty back to the breast, literally hourly. I still kept him topped up with formula but made sure I offered him my milk as much as humanely possible to get my supply back. Although I have to admit to keeping the 11pm bottle as he was sleeping through, I wasn’t going to give that up!
I then successfully fed him myself until he was six months old.
Fast forward 2 more years and Blossom was born. And the struggles started again. Although painful, it was easier in a way as having been through it before I knew it would get better and I would get through it. And I did. With a lot of help from my trusty Savoy cabbage leaves, warm baths and cold compresses. Oh and lansinoh, tonnes of the stuff!
7 months on and I’m still feeding Blossom with no plans to stop just yet. I definitely feel its been a positive experience. And in some ways will feel sad to stop eventually as chances are she is my last child.
I guess the moral of my sore boobed tale is, it does get better. And it is worth it. I love that last feed of the day when Blossom is all snuggled into me slowly drifting off into her milky sleep. Contentment that is, right there.
I am Bec, I blog at www.beetrootandgherkins.blogspot.com about my children Monty (3yrs) and Blossom (7 months) both of whom I breastfed and this is my story….
I’m not going to deny it. I struggled with breastfeeding Monty. On the day my milk came in I had comedy boobs. I looked like Jordan but without the massive bank balance and pink horse box. I became so engorged with milk that there was nothing for Monty to latch onto and my nipples were cracked, sore, bleeding and painful. I began to dread every feed.
I was in so much pain the midwife suggested I expressed and fed Monty either from a syringe or one of those thimble cups. She also booked me in with a breastfeeding counsellor whilst muttering something about having enough milk for twins.
Engorgement is horrible. It’s like trying to latch a baby onto an apple. No chance. So I dutifully began to express for the first tie and sobbed my heart out as the bottle filled with blood.
The counsellor never turned up the next day and in the end I gritted my teeth, suffered and got on with it, stamping my feet and swearing with every feed. Eventually it got better but I don’t remember enjoying it.
When Monty was seven weeks old I got mastitis. I felt so ill I decided to give up breastfeeding as I was exhausted and just needed the break. In all honesty though I didn’t really know what I wanted. No sooner had I stopped I was so sad and regretted it terribly. So my nine week old baby and I started again.
Sounds crazy? I kept putting Monty back to the breast, literally hourly. I still kept him topped up with formula but made sure I offered him my milk as much as humanely possible to get my supply back. Although I have to admit to keeping the 11pm bottle as he was sleeping through, I wasn’t going to give that up!
I then successfully fed him myself until he was six months old.
Fast forward 2 more years and Blossom was born. And the struggles started again. Although painful, it was easier in a way as having been through it before I knew it would get better and I would get through it. And I did. With a lot of help from my trusty Savoy cabbage leaves, warm baths and cold compresses. Oh and lansinoh, tonnes of the stuff!
7 months on and I’m still feeding Blossom with no plans to stop just yet. I definitely feel its been a positive experience. And in some ways will feel sad to stop eventually as chances are she is my last child.
I guess the moral of my sore boobed tale is, it does get better. And it is worth it. I love that last feed of the day when Blossom is all snuggled into me slowly drifting off into her milky sleep. Contentment that is, right there.
Labels: breastfeeding, engorged ; expressed ; latch on ; mastitis ;
posted by Mamascarf at
01:59
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