Guest Post: Written by Erin from http://www.aspoonfulofspitup.com
Before my husband and I even started trying to make a baby, I read about it. I read about getting pregnant, being pregnant, birthing a baby, feeding a baby, keeping a baby alive...if it was about babies, I researched it. I'm a chronic over-preparer...just ask my husband!
One Sunday I stayed home from church because I wasn't feeling well. I started doing more research about breastfeeding, and came across an article on Kelly Mom about Insufficient Glandular Tissue (IGT). You can read that article here.
I started reading the article because it was interesting. Then I got to the part that described the physical markers for IGT. And they described me, almost to a T. My husband came home from church to a hysterical, sobbing, hugely pregnant wife.
I was devastated that I might not be able to feed my baby.
I've always thought there was something a little different about the way I looked, but I didn't worry about it too much. Everyone is different, right? Almost everyone can breastfeed, regardless of the size of their breasts!
People tried to reassure me. "You don't know that you have IGT! Everyone can breastfeed! Just because your boobs aren't big doesn't mean you won't make milk...my cousin/grandma/mom/sister/
I tried really hard not to worry about it. I wouldn't know for sure whether I had IGT until I actually tried to breastfeed...but it was always in the back of my mind, making me worry.
When my son was born, I fed him around the clock. He had a bad latch from being stuck in my pelvis for so long, and the doctors were working to fix that. I was taking several supplements to increase supply. Again, I tried not to worry. Having a c-section can delay the milk coming in, so I gave it a few days.
Unfortunately, my milk never came in. After my son completely destroyed my nipples (we're talking lots of blood, skin coming off in chunks, and searing pain), I started pumping every two hours while he ate formula.
After a week of pumping around the clock, I never made more than half an ounce a day. Total. And that was on a good day.
I would put the pump on, get ten drops of milk in the first minute, and then cry for the next twenty minutes as I watched the bottles remain empty. I kept pumping in case my milk decided, by some miracle, to come in after a week or more, but it didn't work.
Making the decision to stop trying to breastfeed was probably the hardest one I've made in my life. Trying was causing me pain, both physical and emotional. But quitting would also cause me pain. In the end, it was better for both my family and myself that I formula feed my son.
I felt like a failure. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a mother! I mean, my body couldn't birth him naturally, and I wasn't able to feed him. What kind of woman am I?
It took me a long time to realize that being a mom doesn't mean breastfeeding your child. It means taking care of him. Sacrificing for him. Loving him.
I have faced judgment from many people who don't understand my situation. People who think that, no matter what, breast is best. When my son was four days old I was lectured by a stranger in Walmart about the evils of formula. There were times that people almost convinced me that if I took enough supplements and pumped constantly and ate oatmeal and drank Gatorade and stood on my head for thirty minutes every morning, I would make enough milk for my child. Because, as I was told by many people, everyone can breastfeed.
Despite what people think, not everyone can breastfeed. And even if they can physically breastfeed, there are so many reasons that moms choose formula. Why do women feel the need to judge other moms when they have no idea what they're going through? Not every mom who chooses to use formula is uneducated. Some of us just can't breastfeed, no matter how badly we wanted to.
My decision to use formula was not made lightly. It kept my son from starving, which made it the absolute best decision for my family. I was doing my job as a mom: taking care of my child. Why should I be judged for that?
I'm happy to say that my son did not succumb to formula poisoning during the first year of his life. He's happy and healthy (with the exception of the ear infection that never ends), and so smart. Breast milk was my first choice, but I would say that formula worked pretty well for us.
But if colleges start only accepting students who were breastfed as babies, he's screwed.
...if that happens I'll just send them some cute pictures of him and they'll change their minds. Because who wouldn't want this cutie going to their school?
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