As I am brainstorming this blog, all I see are a million “I should have”s. A million things for me to feel bad about. A million times I didn’t do what was best for myself or my son. A million ways of saying I failed. I didn’t fail, but I sure as hell did not do the best I could and I have regrets. So far, parenting regrets seem to sting in a place that wasn’t there before I had a baby. It seems to me like I am hurting on a whole different playing field. These new pains seem to be much harder to get past, much harder to let go of, much harder to forgive myself for. And I feel like they are all adding up so quickly. I am not even a whole year into my son’s life and I already regret things I did? How is that even possible? To regret in such a short timespan. I feel so guilty for feeling the regret, that I regret the guilt. This is quite a massive problem going on.
I hope to be more alone than not, in this particular case, because wow it is a painful ride. I don’t feel like I will be much help to anyone who is currently dealing with this, because most days I feel the regrets and guilt sneak up on me in one way or another. I do hope, however, that you see another perspective. Whether that is of your own mind or someone else’s, I would like to think it would help either way.
So cheers to diving into this disaster of a story. Maybe I can change my own perspective just by typing this all out! Here is what I should have done.
First thing I realized too late was that I should have been doing a lot more research BEFORE my son was born. I couldn’t help but think it would be easy. I mean my body was made for this and women have done it since the beginning of time, of course I could do it! Yeah, no. Breastfeeding isn’t just about the holds and being awake all the time to feed them. It’s about your diet, pumping schedule, hydration, clothing, sleep positions, your baby’s weight, your time and energy, etc. I needed to ask a million and one questions, but I didn’t. I wasn’t asking these questions hardly ever when I was pregnant and I barely asked any after my son was born.
This leads into the second thing I should have done, which was talking to the Lactation Consultant. Pretty sure I had mastitis there for a second, and holy cow that was more painful than my c-section scar was at that point, which is really saying something. I have heard some real horrible stories about mothers and lactation consultants, but I should have kept an open mind and tried to see one. As a first time mother and especially first time breastfeeding mother, I really needed more help than I could have imagined. Now, my Aunt was tremendously helpful! She had tried breastfeeding three times at that point: once with twins! She was the only person who truly understood my frustrations because she had been there with her breastfeeding journey, too, and none of my other family members chose to breastfeed. The Lactation Consultant also would have helped with my pumping problems as well because I was apparently the only breastfeeding mother to ever come and go through the hospital without ever bringing in the pump. Again, not enough research was done.
The last thing I need to get off of my chest here because I don’t think it gets talked about enough is the fact that I had no faith in my own body. Well, I did until I saw my son’s pediatrician. I thought I was on a roll! My son’s weight dropped for a while after he was born, which was a completely normal thing. I was ecstatic when he finally hit his birth weight again. I felt like I was finally doing the mom thing right, you know! Breastfeeding is no easy feat, but I felt like we were grooving and figuring it out. Until my son’s doctor made it very clear to me that he was not gaining enough weight. About 4 visits later (that were every like 2-3 days, mind you), I was exhausted and I gave in. I gave in to the “formula supplementing” approach. I was so upset with myself and I am still trying to let go of the guilt and shame I have for not going on my breastfeeding journey the way I anticipated. I stopped believing in my body. I stopped believing I was capable of figuring it out. I didn’t stand up for myself. I was vulnerable and sad and defeated and I gave in. I didn’t do this solely for myself, I truly thought the doctor wanted what was best for my son and I absolutely wanted to do the best. Once my breastfeeding journey was coming to an end, I started thinking more clearly and about the decisions that got me to an empty chest. I believe this was my downfall. This was the moment that set me up for failure. I tried every single thing I could and it was never enough. Once my son was on the bottle, it was over. Whether there was formula in it or breastmilk, didn’t matter. He gave up on latching as soon as he got a bottle. I am not saying this as a way to tell people not to bottle feed or formula feed. Fed is the best answer, always. I am saying this because I knew better and I didn’t say anything. I knew I wanted to breastfeed and that it would take some time. I knew my son was eating because he was having wet diapers. I knew better, but I still let the doctors get in my head and convince me that my son needed formula. A piece of my heart chipped the day my son wouldn’t latch. I will never forget it. I hope to heal and to forgive myself and remind myself that I had the best of intentions, whether it was the best for my son or not. Listen to your body and your heart and stand up for yourself and your children. I lost my opportunity, but you don’t have to.
Not So Motherly Instincts 