Breastfeeding Chapter Two

So, seven weeks in and we're still breastfeeding. And I'm quite relieved to say that it's been pretty straightforward this time around, well sort of. I was worried it would all go horribly wrong again and as much as I told myself it didn't matter if I ended up bottle feeding again, I knew in truth I'd be gutted if it didn't work out. I'd read everything I could on the subject and hoped that knowledge combined with experience would help me crack it this time.

And we got off to the perfect start: natural birth, immediate skin to skin and feeding half an hour after being born. It couldn't have been more different than Taters birth.

The first two days before my milk came in felt like such a leap of faith, could I trust my body to produce milk this time? I watched for wet nappies anxiously. But then to my relief there was suddenly milk, plenty of it, but also soreness - plenty of that too.

One morning was particularly awful, as I cried into my Ready Brek, clutching frozen peas to my breasts trying to numb them up before the next feed, I was topless, unable to tolerate clothing against my skin. I felt saggy and swollen and utterly miserable. And so disappointed that I was battling this fight once again. I couldn't stop crying.

So I set about working on getting the latch right. I knew what the right latch should look like and feel like, I thought I knew everything! But in practice it was much trickier. Flailing arms and head bobbing all over the place, tiny mouth that wouldn't open wide enough... I felt like I didn't have enough hands. It felt like a dance in which I knew all the steps but couldn't remember how to put them all together. 

I ended up with sores so bad I began to wonder if nipples really could fall off, they made me queasy to look at. But how could I quit? I actually had milk to feed my baby this time... I would have given anything to be in that position with my first.

Oh and then I developed thrush. This time I recognised the pain and we received medication promptly, but I'm not entirely sure we've knocked it on the head now and I'm praying it doesn't come back. 

Because you know, it's actually going ok. I'm not in pain, she's gaining loads of weight... It's all good. Feeding in public was a bit weird at first, but I don't know if it's something about Sheffield or the part of Sheffield where I live, but every new mother seems to be at it, and no one bats an eyelid. But at the same time I'm surprised to find no one seems adverse to formula either. 

I don't know whether times have changed or whether the sense of judgement I felt feeding Taters formula was in my head or just online, but no one seems to worry what other mothers do. It's pretty bloomin' wonderful actually. I'd thought long and hard about how I would tackle any anti formula breastfeeding fanatics I came across, but I've not met a single one yet. I hope it stays that way!

All that said, I'm still not crazy about breastfeeding, maybe it's just early days but I don't feel like shouting about how amazing it is just yet. I think the thrush has tainted things somewhat, it's hard to think of the milk as liquid gold when I have to keep applying cream and putting drops in my baby's mouth whenever we come into contact with it, that makes it feel more like a contaminated substance. It also leaks everywhere leaving my bed soaked, my clothes damp and cold, the baby throws it up all over me a few times of day making me feel scruffy and unclean. Perhaps in a few more weeks when things settle down I'll come to love it the way others do, but right now I just don't. I'm actually quite sick of the sight of my boobs. It's easier, I get more sleep, it's lazier. I'm certainly not quitting, that's definitely not an option, I just don't love it you know? But I feel like I should...