Much Ado About Parenting: 6 weeks

Showing posts with label 6 weeks. Show all posts

Thursday, 13 September 2012

From Birth to Breast.

It has been some time since I have written anything now and you may have been wondering how life has been after pregnancy and labour.

The best word to describe the past 6 weeks is intense. Physically and emotionally intense. In some ways it doesn't feel that long since I was faced with the shock that I had just given birth to our 10lbs 13oz baby boy in our bedroom without pain relief! Now, I don't bring this up to boast but to this day it all feels a little surreal when people ask about the labour and I give this answer. The looks and comments I get are priceless and never fail to entertain me. Most of the time however, it feels as though Ethan has always been here and I have no idea what I did before he arrived. It is as though I have spent my whole life, in particular 9 and a half months waiting and preparing for something which you can never really prepare for fully.

I may have prepared my body, my mind and home to some extent but I certainly didn't prepare my breasts for what was to come. I was always determined to breastfeed, as my mother did; it seemed the natural choice. I read the books, undertook the training and assumed it would just happen. How naive I was. I figured that breastfeeding would only hurt if you did it 'wrong.' What I hadn't prepared myself for is how hungry babies are, how comforting my boobs are and how much strength of suck a newborn has!

For the first 3 weeks of breastfeeding at least I can only compare our son to a snappy turtle or one of those teethy animal heads on sticks kids get from museums or the zoo. It got to the point where the sight of the deadly jaws of my beautiful boy approaching my nipple filled me with genuine fear and bought many tears to my eye! Breastfeeding is an incredibly natural process, with practise and support. Thankfully after 6 weeks we have managed to settle into breastfeeding but it hasn't been without a lot of tears (on both sides of the breast), guilt and the odd bottle of aptamil. Some will judge those who bottle feed, whether it be the odd bottle or completely but my opinion on this is make your own choice, keep judgement to yourself and understand that the most valuable thing for a baby is a happy Mummy.

Until I gave birth myself I never imagined there would be such heated debate and in my opinion, ill treatment of women for their feeding choices of their own children. I have made my feeding choice for our son but it is just that; my choice. It is not the choice of the health visitor who tells me I am a 'failure' at breastfeeding (actual words) nor is it the choice of the multitude of leaflets which shout BREAST IS BEST over and over again. I may have managed to continue breastfeeding but I don't blame or judge any woman who has stopped breastfeeding at any point. It is hard work, really hard and for some it is impossible both physically and mentally to function and perform as a mother under the level or pressure and pain experienced. Think nipples bleeding while spending half an hour attempting to attach your crying baby to you only to then sit crying in pain for the next hour while they feed. Then imagine getting a 20 minute break before starting the whole process again. Over and over again. Top this with a generous dose of loneliness (as you are the only one able to feed your child at this point) and you have some idea of whether breast is always best.

As I say, I have continued with breastfeeding but this is my personal choice and you can quote me as saying that there have been points far more difficult than labour itself. Having continued with breastfeeding the next hurdle has been feeding in public. Now I am pretty sure that in the days when my weekends (and sometimes week nights) were spent necking cocktails and shots I flashed a boob or two but doing so when sober in daytime hours is a daunting prospect for most women. My first experience of public feeding really threw me straight into it. Sitting in a lovely cafe Utopia in Southend enjoying lunch with my Mum I rapidly realised Ethan was looking a little chompy. Instead of feeding him immediately I decided to start a conversation with him to ask whether he wanted to eat and begging for a clear signal. After a few minutes of this my Mum told me that I need to make a decision, rather than Ethan. Good point. The poor boy is not a lady that lunches, he is 4 weeks old and hungry. With my muslin cloth at the ready and fingers crossed I manage to get Ethan on to the breast without any nipple flashing and not one judgemental look from staff or customers. Lucky me. It has not been unheard of for women to breastfeed their babies in public toilets. As my health visitor said today would we eat lunch in a public toilet? After all my worrying Ethan fed for less than 5 minutes which tells me he either wanted to make the experience less traumatic for me or he got stage fright!

I could probably discuss breastfeeding and the judgement and guilt placed upon women for their feeding choice for the whole blog but will just end with these words. Hot Milk. Beautiful nursing bras; disturbing company name. There is nothing hot (in the sexy sense) about my massive milk machines.

Ethan and I at 5 weeks.