Hellobee

In all that I had imagined about parenthood when I was pregnant with M, exclusive pumping was never part of it. I expected I would breastfeed — I was formula fed myself, but Mac Daddy is very enthusiastic about breastfeeding, and I saw my older sister successfully manage it with my niece, so it felt like I had a lot of support, despite not having a lot of knowledge about the subject.

M latched shortly after birth, and everything seemed to be working well. I was anxious about her latch because I had no idea what it was supposed to look, sound, or feel like, but she was gaining weight and I wasn’t in any kind of horrendous pain aside from what I was told was typical for the early days.

About a month postpartum things went downhill, fast. Her latch was recognizably wrong, but despite going back and forth with an LC, doctors, and nurses, something still wasn’t working. I suspected she had a posterior tongue tie, and we were diagnosed as borderline on the Hazelbaker scale. I pushed to have it dealt with, and we had a frenectomy done on M at eight weeks old.

I thought it had fixed the problem. She nursed beautifully for about a week, but then it all fell apart again. I developed thrush, and spent a lot of frustrating hours trying to beat it with gentian violet, APNO, and miconazole. Nursing became very painful, so I started pumping and bottle feeding during the day, which turned into pumping full-time. I was really lucky to already have a good Medela pump on hand. I wasn’t thinking I’d ever have to use it extensively, what with being off work for a year on maternity leave, but that thing got a workout.

Between Mac Daddy and I, we eventually had our pumping routine down to an art. M got bottles overnight, which meant we both shared the work of getting her fed at all hours. We started handling nights in shifts, and I took shortcuts that helped my sanity, like keeping all of my pumping parts in a plastic container in the fridge during the day, washing and sanitizing after my last pumping session. We stocked up on bottles, which Mac Daddy used to try to encourage a better latch for M. I listened to relaxation tracks while I pumped which was ridiculous but helped me think about something other than whether or not I was making enough milk.

The hardest part was when I was at home with her during the day and had to pump instead of spending time with her — it felt unfair and backward, but also, I felt like it had to be done. I had paralysis over making a decision because breastfeeding hurt, and she always seemed hungry when I nursed, but pumping was a ton of work. Formula also seemed complicated and expensive, and I really just wanted to give her breastmilk. How do you pick between pain, hassle, and expense without feeling like you’re doing something wrong? I felt terrible when she visibly wanted to nurse — she would open her mouth big and root around my chest, and I’d have to run and get a bottle to heat up.

After about two months of pumping, I went on a round of antibiotics to try to clear the infection that would not leave my nipples alone. It was a last ditch effort, in case it was a bacterial problem. I also threw medical advice out the window and started applying miconazole after nearly every feeding. Maybe it was the antibiotics, maybe it was the miconazole, maybe it was luck, but something obliterated the red, itchy stabby feeling within a week or two.

Then, we went on vacation toting a baby for the first time ever. Faced with four flights and the prospect of pumping in the airport, during our trip I decided to try latching her again. To my surprise, she managed it well, so I kept going. I still don’t know if it was a matter of her getting used to having more tongue and more motion to work with, if having to latch properly onto a bottle and use her tongue rather than clamping taught her the right way to do it, but she suddenly knew how to nurse.