Mammals Make Milk, Right?

"I'm a mammal, dammit!  How hard can this be?!" 

This is what I said while pregnant when people told me breastfeeding might be difficult.   

Then I gave birth to my daughter.

Oy.  Hard.  Really hard.  
(And I'm referring to breastfeeding here, not labor, which is also really, really hard... but that's another story for another blog)

When breastfeeding isn't going well, the hospital lactation consultants come marching in to see you.  A different one every day.  With a different plan every day.  And despite the deluge of conflicting advice and various LCs who visited our hospital room, breastfeeding still was not going well.  I was dripping with tears instead of milk.  Lots of tears.  Lots.  And no milk.  Not a drop.

Was it because the LCs kept changing the plan?  Was it because I was pumping wrong?  Was there something wrong with my daughter's latch?  These were the pragmatic questions I was asking out loud.  But inside I was burning with sadness and rage because I COULD NOT FEED MY BABY!

I felt like a failure.  I felt alone, stressed, guilty and depressed when what I wanted was to feel bonded and blissed out over our healthy and thriving breastfed baby.

My husband and I quickly moved to plan B and called in the IBCLC (International Board Certified Lactation Consultant, or as I like to call her "Really Fancy Lactation Lady") who had taught the breastfeeding class we took during my 3rd trimester.  

She came to the hospital.  
(cue the gospel choir singing "hallelujah!")
She helped.  She helped!
Within minutes of her interventions, things began to shift.  Literally MINUTES.  I wept with relief.  I had milk!  I could feed my daughter!  

Of course it wasn't EXACTLY that simple.  

It took nearly 7 weeks to solve our breastfeeding problems, and we spent a good chunk of change on private support, but our support was excellent, plus it gave me the confidence to stick with it.   And I've done the math.  The money we spent on lactation support is less than what we would have spent on formula.  Not to mention the emotional costs involved with the feelings of guilt and sadness had I not been able to breastfeed.  Rocking my daughter to sleep on my breast, looking down at her big blue eyes as she nurses, soothing her when she is ill or hurt or scared, knowing she is nourished with healthy, appropriate, species specific milk every day. These moments were and continue to be the greatest reward.

And now I am one of those women who turned maternity leave into a career change.  I used to be really annoyed by these women, by the way, but alas, here I am, hat in hand.
As I trudge through the coursework to earn my certification as a Lactation Educator (and let me tell you the process is no walk in the park -  I am up to my elbows in clinical text books, observation notes, and research articles) I will be posting here along the way. 

It is my hope that my studies, observations, experiences, and anecdotes from milky mamas (and mamas working hard to be much more so), will provide guidance, support, community, confidence, and a few laughs to all you moms out there, working hard to feed your babe(s).

Feel free to comment or query, and I'll do my best to help you find answers and resources.

**To learn more about becoming a Certified Lactation Educator (CLE), click here.