I apologise in advance for the
extra-long rant about feeding babies!
Breastfeeding. You read and hear so much about it in the
media, whether it be on the news, websites for parents, Facebook support groups
and the various health services you are involved with when you have your
baby. All of it promotes breastfeeding
and how this is the best and healthiest way to feed your baby. I can’t disagree with them; breast milk is there for a reason and it is
to feed your child and give it your antibodies and the goodness you hold within
you.
Though I cannot deny that
breastfeeding is the most perfectly natural thing for a mother to do, for a lot
of us, it comes with hardship and pain (both physical and emotional).
For those that choose from the
outset not to breastfeed, that is their choice to make and a brave one to make
in today’s society. For once you tell
your midwife or health care assistant that you wish to bottle feed, you see
them switch off from you – they may aswell say “get on with it then”. Now, I cannot say that all professionals are
like this of course, for I have encountered two primary care trusts, both of
which gave me vastly different care!
To breastfeeding mothers; you
should be proud of yourselves that you are doing what a lot of us wish we could
have done. Most of you will have hit an
obstacle, but have pushed through and persevered until, it just worked!
The mothers who would like to
give breastfeeding a try and unfortunately can’t feed their baby in this way,
it is extremely difficult to put that brave face on when you may feel you have
failed. I tried with Jacob and Seth, but
both times I had to give up – Jacob was too exhausted after being in distress
and Seth wouldn’t latch on because he became too lethargic due to
jaundice.
Most mothers know the feeling when
your milk comes in, in full force too – your boobs feel like lead weights and
someone can just brush past you and you want to cry with the pain! I suppose at that point, most of us are crying
anyway from the surge of hormones.
I had Jacob by emergency
c-section at the Queen Elizabeth in Gateshead and I had Seth, also by emergency
c-section at University Hospital North Durham and my experiences were extremely
different. You can guess which one gave
me crap care, since I chose a different hospital second time around!
To be fair to the Queen Elizabeth
they were short staffed, but the staff that were there ignored me. Because I was quiet and ‘got on with it’,
they assumed I was already a mother so didn’t help me at all. Jacob didn’t feed for around 18 hours and
when I was in despair about it, they just kept telling me to try. They got a breast-feeding support assistant
to come and (to put it politely) man-handle me and my baby, which was the point
I called for someone else and told them, through sobs that I needed to bottle
feed my baby. I was left to get on with
it, in a room shared only with a woman, who I would put money on being a junkie
and who was allowed family visitors (around six or seven) all day and evening
because they were too scared of telling her otherwise. I felt exposed and utterly alone with my
beautiful boy!
When we were home, we had so many
problems with Jacob’s feeding. Firstly,
the Cow & Gate Infant Milk didn’t seem to satisfy him, but it seemed as
though he was struggling with stomach cramps and he was sick and pooed a
lot! The health visitor told us to go
onto Comfort Milk, which we tried and Jacob hated but kept with it because she
said he was obviously intolerant. When
Jacob had his eight-week check at the GP’s, the GP told us this was totally
wrong and it sounded to her like he needed Hungry Baby milk. She was right, of course and luckily, things
started to settle slightly. It was hard
not to be able to talk to anyone about it though – us Bottle Feeders are not
allowed at Breast Feeding CLUB apparently.
I say CLUB in capitals, because this is how us bottle feeders are made
to feel. It is an exclusive club and the
government says you’re not allowed to play if you don’t breast feed! Luckily for us, Jacob has turned out to be so
resilient and healthy.
My experience in Durham, when
having Seth, was completely different.
Though just as bloody scary, going into early labour with a breech baby
again, the care and support was second-to-none.
My first midwife, Andrea was very straight-to-the-point, but listened to
me and was there every time I wailed for her!
And I wailed, mainly through being terrified that, for 18 hours of agony,
I was being told I wasn’t in labour! And
when she checked me over and I was 4cm dilated, she ran from that room and
within minutes, a registrar was there to make me sign my pre-op forms. I would’ve signed my soul over to the devil
at that point!
The next day, the doctor I first
saw when I arrived at hospital at 5.30am came to see me. She explained that I had a bicornuate uterus
(the registrar asked me during the c-section if I knew I had a “funny shaped
uterus” – I laughed and said “no”). She
explained that this was why both boys were small, breech and I went into labour
early. It was never mentioned or
explained before, during any scans I have had, or after my c-section with Jacob. It meant a lot to me that she came, and
explained this and she apologised for not getting me on the theatre list when I
first arrived. I just replied “all’s
well that ends well” and I was just thankful for her care – she made sure I
didn’t go home and stayed to be monitored.
I tried to breast feed Seth, the
way I did with Jacob, and although I was much calmer this time, we couldn’t
seem to grasp it and he wouldn’t latch on.
I was hand-expressing 1ml every three hours (!), with help from a
wonderful health care assistant called Alison.
After a day or so, they took some blood and confirmed he was jaundiced,
so at this point they said his feeds, if I decided to keep breastfeeding, would
need to be topped up with formula. I cut
my losses this time. I was a little
disappointed, but like I said to them, it was more important to me to get Seth
better and fill his little tummy than worry about myself and that I may have
failed. I didn’t fail. I had ready-made formula bottles in my
hospital bag and was just grateful that the support from the staff did not
falter. In fact, when I was discharged
on the Saturday, I was actually sad to say goodbye to some of the nicest people
I would ever meet and would possibly never see again. Although, I did bump into one health care assistant
called Moira in the Post Office – the one who took out my catheter and helped
me have a bed bath...!
I have to be honest though, when
I am feeding Seth in public, I feel a lot of eyes on me; probably more than I
would have if I was breast feeding. I
like to think they are just getting an eye of my beautiful baby boy, but I can’t
help but feel that some of those looks are disapproving ones, for not
breastfeeding.
I suppose, what I am trying to
get across in this rant, is that it annoys and upsets me that mothers who
choose (or have to) bottle feed their babies are left to deal with motherhood
on their own. Formula has been around
for a long time now and I am sick of saying to people that it is not
poison. It has all the nutrients in it
that my baby needs. I actually know of a
few people who have tried to breast feed their babies, thinking that their milk
was the best option, but it has turned out that it just isn’t and they have
been advised to formula feed. Well I say
“advise”. They say that they are not
allowed to tell you to bottle feed...
Motherhood is tough – natural but
tough. We all need support and I just
can’t agree with breast feeding being forced down our throats. Of course, it is good and the best if you can
do it. But as long as a baby is being
fed, does it matter how it is done? My
goodness, think of so many babies in care now and the ones that are neglected
and fed absolutely nothing. The media is
also littered with horror stories of babies being abused and neglected. My bottle fed babies are loved – adored even
and I can only be proud of both my sons, my husband and myself for doing the
best we can!
Maybe I should start a
bottle-feeding support page...
HLW x
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