I've always wanted to breastfeed. I've learnt about the benefits of it for my child, for me and for us and I knew that I want to do it. I've known of people who did it successfully, as well as others who didn't do it so well. I've heard different versions of stories about it - some good, some not so great - none of it changed my opinion. I wanted to breastfeed my child.
Here's a shot of my (then) very new family. We were still in the delivery ward, and that was Kate and my first
contact with each other. I don't truly remember the actual act, though I remember the nurses asking if I wanted to breastfeed and when I said 'yes', they were very keen and helpful to bring the baby to me for our first latch. I do remember Kate suckling at my breast and I think the feeling was a mix of amazement (
hey check out that cute little mouth moving away at my breast?!) and happiness (
aawww look at my baby suckling away...)
The doctors and nurses at Thomson Medical were very helpful and encouraged breastfeeding. The pediatrician told me scientific reasons why breastfeeding is good while the lactation consultants gave group and individual lessons about breastfeeding. The theory I'd tried to read up and heard of, the practical was very overwhelming. I remember 'feeding' Kate in the first 3 days while we were still in hospital and as I hadn't started producing milk then, I did cling fiercely to the
columstrum I was producing and held fast to the belief that it was good and enough for Kate.
On the third day when we were all discharged from the hospital, I had my first argument about breastfeeding. An elder was convinced that my poor daughter was starved as I still wasn't producing milk and that was my first meltdown on the subject. I am very proud that I held firm in wanting to breastfeed Kate wholly. I did not wish to mix any formula milk for her as I believed that breast is best.
Oh, what memories of those early days. I remember the anxiety at not knowing if I was doing it right, the pain of engorgement when the milk kicked in (I got a mild fever), the release of blocked milk ducts (aided by the Malay massage lady), the relief when my colustrum started changing colour from a clear-yellow colour to clear-white.
As breastmilk is highly digestible (part of why it is good for a newborn's digestive system), I had to feed Kate every 2 hours and it was not easy. I was tired and stressed, but I kept going.
I wanted to breastfeed her wholly, I wanted to breastfeed her wholly. I remember feeling quite triumphant when Kate suckled like a champ. I felt my uterus contracting when the job was done right. I remember the sister buying some vitamins for me (I'd requested her to) while I was still pregnant because I was already preparing for any form of help in case my milk supply wasn't sufficient. I was in tears struggling to do what I wanted to, fending off any comments that I didn't have to do total breastfeeding.
I wanted to breastfeed her wholly, I wanted to breastfeed her wholly.I remember calling up friends and asking many questions related to breastfeeding and combing through many many websites that provided me any form of information about the subject. I was truly stressed out and thinking back, I didn't really have much to worry about. Though I did. I attribute my stress to the fact that it mattered
so much to me. I also wanted to do it
right and I knew that I was the sole one responsible for being able to feed her.
It truly meant a lot to me.We got into a pretty good (and tiring) system after two weeks and I was very happy.
My next bout of stress came about just before I had to come back to work and I had to get my head about the concept of freezing milk. I blame preggo brain, though I was truly quite thick-skulled and I could not seem to work out how I was going to get my express-milk system going. After alot of (self-inflicted) stress, and also asking around about 200 people for advice, I purchased the required tools. I bought ice packs, borrowed a thermal bag, got extra milk bottles and by sheer luck, I also changed upon a 2nd set of a milk pump. I was very lucky.
I remember how ecstactic I felt when I had enough milk to feed and to store. The MIL was very helpful and made space in the freezer for milk storage. It was very thrilling to be able to provide for Kate and even have some kept aside for emergencies. I felt very gratified doing my job well.
I missed latching Kate when I came back to work. It was not only much more convenient, but I also missed the intimacy and bond. But as with all things, time helped settle matters and I got into my new system of expressing milk at work and shuttling the precious gold from work back home to feed Kate.
It became a new way of life for me. I had to ensure that I had a private room to express milk if I was not with Kate, and I got into the hang of feeding Kate every few hours. It was rather inconvenient at times, when I had to make provisions for expressing milk at training sessions outside of office, when I was away from pump and Kate for long periods of time and my breasts felt like they were going to burst. I remember losing my temper at the husband on the subject matter before, mostly because I was stressed out.
All this time, I still exchanged stories about breastfeeding with my friends and I still always appreciated anytime someone told me how well I was doing.
The husband and I got into a very comfortable routine of 'bringing the feeding shawl out' so I could feed her wherever we were. We didn't have to worry about extra bottles, hot water etc, because I could feed Kate.
I'd already made a decision that I'd only breastfeed Kate till she's 1 year old. A while ago, I made the decision to cut down on feeding Kate and begin the weaning process. Very quickly, my supply fell and within 2 weeks, I was down to 2pumps a day. It's been a month since and I'm pretty much down to very limited supply.
Kate is now 10 months and 2weeks old. And yesterday, for the first time in her life, she tasted formula milk.
I will miss breastfeeding my precious daughter, but I know that it has been a great journey for us both.