The Next Chapter: Breastfeeding Part 1

Let me start by saying that I don't mean for this post to be judgmental in any way. If you have had to feed your baby using formula, I'm sure you have your reasons. Whether it's by choice or because you had to, in no way am I saying that what you have done is wrong. I'm writing this to tell my story. This is what I chose, this is what I am passionate about, and this is what has worked for Ava and I.

My mom is a dietician who works for WIC. When I was pregnant she put an excellent breastfeeding book in my hands. It was even signed by the author, whom my mom met at a breastfeeding workshop. When it was time to go to the hospital to be induced, I hadn't finished reading it and we brought it to the hospital with us. I'm so glad we did, too, because we ended up needing to reference it at the hospital.

On the fourth day of our hospital stay, (we were in the hospital for five days...we'll get to that later), and the second day of Ava's life, a nurse came in our room and warned me that since Ava was losing weight, the doctor would want me to supplement with formula. Instantly I felt like my feathers had been ruffled. I was angry and nervous. I told Jimi ahead of time that I wanted to breastfeed. He knew I was serious about it. We'd had several conversations about how I would need his support. I just never thought that I would need it so soon.

This was supposed to be the hospital that was pro-breastfeeding. When we went on a tour of the maternity wing months before, we talked to a nurse that told us that much. She explained that they would help me learn how to breastfeed and even gave me a few tips during the tour. When I typed up our birth plan I included information like, "After Ava is born, she will stay in the room with us. She will not go the nursery. No one is to give our baby formula." I made sure every single nurse that we met knew this. Even when they said that they could take her "just for a few hours, so you can take a nap" I said no. I had fears that they would take her away and give her formula when she cried just so they wouldn't have to wake me. I was not having any part of that. So, she stayed with us.

One day a nurse wheeled her out and said that the doctor had to do some tests on her. I was so groggy from the pain medication and the lack of sleep that I didn't put up a fight, but as soon as they took Ava away I felt weird. I felt lost and scared. I worried about what they were doing with her. I didn't understand why they couldn't do their tests in the room with me. So, the next time they took her, Jimi and I went with them. They were weighing her. They had to take her because of the scale.

Let's get back to that fourth day...I firmly told the nurse that I would not supplement with formula. So, she asked how I felt about pumping and syringe feeding. I didn't really understand what she meant, but I agreed to it since it was at least an alternative to formula. As the nurse was gathering up the supplies, the doctor came in and said Ava had lost 7 percent of her body weight and that we seriously needed to think about supplementing. I said that I would not supplement with formula and that I would pump instead. The nurse set up the pump for me and showed me how to do it. So, I fed Ava, and then I pumped. It was painful. My mature milk still hadn't come in yet. I was pumping colostrum. The nurse told me to call her back in when I fed Ava next and she would show me how to syringe feed her. It was time. I called her back in and she stood at my side as Ava nursed. She put a breastshield over my nipple, put the tiniest tube I had ever seen into the breastshield, and loaded a syringe full of colostrum. She pushed a little at a time into the breastshield as I nursed her. We repeated this over and over for the next 12 hours. I breastfed while a nurse put the tube in the breastshield, then I pumped. It was miserable.

The morning of the fifth day, the doctor came back to weigh Ava. She had lost 10 percent of her body weight. I felt like crying. I had been doing everything I could. I was so tired and my nipples were so sore. Again the doctor said that we needed to supplement with formula. I refused again and she said that she would not discharge us from the hospital until Ava started gaining weight. At this point, Jimi was starting to get really upset. He called my mom and told her everything. She immediately came to the hospital and supported us. The three of us discussed what was going on, I had a chance to get my mind right and then I called for the doctor to come back into our room so we could talk. It was a very long conversation. My mom introduced herself, but didn't say too much. Jimi interjected a few times, but I could tell that he was very heated. I told him that it was okay, I would take it from here.

I just told the doctor that I was doing everything I could and that we would not supplement with formula. I reminded her that I was syringe feeding her extra milk while she breastfed and I was feeding her every 2 hours. I noticed that my mature milk had come in late last night and I knew she would start gaining weight in no time. I also reminded the doctor that when Ava was born she was 9 pounds 6 ounces. If she lost a little weight it would be okay. I told her that if Ava had been a preemie or we had other extenuating circumstances, then I would do whatever it took to get her where she needed to be. The problem we were facing was just a matter of time. This is when Jimi whipped out the breastfeeding book that stated, "All babies lose some weight in the first days after birth. Peak weight loss typically occurs on the third day, just before your milk comes in. On average, breastfed babies lose a little more than formula-fed infants. This is because the amount of colostrum, or early milk, you produce is relatively low in the first two days. It is considered within the range of normal for a breastfed baby to lose up to 10 percent of her original birth weight in the first three days of life." (Neifert, pg. 89)

Finally, I said that we would be leaving that night. It was the fifth night of our stay and legally they could not keep us there any longer. I said, "we are her parents and we are going home tonight." Jimi also informed the doctor that we had already made an appointment with Ava's pediatrician for Monday (the very next day) and that if she had any further concerns, she could fax them to Ava's doctor. It was nearing 5:00 pm and our last nurse made me breastfeed Ava while she helped syringe feed. In front of the nurse, I told Jimi to pack up the car. I wanted her and everyone else there to know that we were leaving that night. When Ava was done eating, Jimi and I went with the nurse as she weighed Ava. She had gained a little bit of weight. An hour later, the nurse brought us our discharge instructions. The same doctor who threatened to make us stay, had already signed the discharge paperwork. Probably soon after our little chat. I was upset that they had made us worry for most of the day wondering if we would have to fight to leave or if they would kindly let us go.

Since coming to the hospital on a Tuesday night, we were finally leaving on a Sunday night, shy of 5 days by almost exactly 1 hour. We had been there so long and it had been such an emotional rollercoaster that it felt like a prison break when we were making the long trek to the car. Yes, they made me walk. No wheelchair for this C-section momma. As soon as I felt the sun on my face, a huge wave of relief washed over me. This was real. We were really going home and now we had a perfectly healthy, breastfed baby coming home with us. Life was forever changed.