Posted by Zoe Quinton on January 25, 2012

When Breastfeeding Isn’t Easy

When you’re pregnant, everyone is eager to tell you that breastfeeding isn’t always easy. Books, classes, friends, relatives — they all warn you that it doesn’t come easily for some. Yet somehow you think: not me. I’ll be a natural. I’ll be the best breastfeeder that’s ever existed. Just you wait.

Of course that’s what I thought: How hard can it be? I mean really. The lactation consultant at the hospital murmured things about my “excellent anatomy” and told me I’d have no problems with nursing. Sure enough, the first couple weeks after my son was born were fine. My husband kept remarking, “Look at you! You’re a natural!” as I whipped a breast out at the dinner table or while watching TV. I got this, I thought. No problem.

What no one warned me about though was that when it comes to breastfeeding, it really does take two to tango. And as with any relationship, problems can go both ways. So while my anatomy may have been up to the task, unfortunately my son did not agree. After a strong start, he suddenly decided that he really did not like nursing. From about three weeks onward, breastfeeding became an all-out struggle, a dance of coercion and heartbreak. His weight gain dropped off precipitously, I became severely depressed, and no one could figure out what was going on. We put him on medication for acid reflux, which did nothing. I stopped taking birth control again, which helped both with his nursing and my mood, but his weight gain remained low.

Eventually I reconciled myself to the fact that my boy was just not a good nurser. He nursed quickly and only when hungry, never needing the breast for comfort or entertainment or any of the myriad other reasons that most babies nurse. I watched my friends’ babies latch on easily and then nurse without incident, while my encounters at the breast remained at best short and businesslike.

We started our son on solids at five months, figuring they’d help with his weight gain. To our surprise, at his six month appointment, he had actually fallen off the growth chart! So we upped his solids again, giving him foods with a much higher fat content: yogurt, eggs, olive oil, tofu. He continued to nurse regularly, and our pediatrician assured us that the additional solids would supplement rather than replace breastmilk in his diet.

Then around seven months, right around Christmas, the boy went on his first nursing strike. He wouldn’t touch my breast for love or money, and recoiled from it as if it were poison. Back to the good old days. Of course this threw me into a tailspin of depression similar to when he was three months old — there is no rejection quite like that of your child not wanting the food your body has produced for him! He started nursing again after a few days, but a couple weeks later, we went through the same thing all over again.

As I waited for this second strike to pass, it became clear to me that it wasn’t just a temporary thing. My boy, never fond of nursing at the best of times, was clearly indicating that he was ready to cut way back on nursing, if not stop altogether. Since then, he’s averaged about three times in a 24 hour period, four on a good day. This may be normal for a nearly eight month old, but considering that he had been nursing six and sometimes eight times a day only a few weeks before, this came as a dramatic change, one with a very clear message: I’m done. So with a heavy heart I have stopped pushing the issue, as the renewed struggle to get him to nurse was making both of us unhappy.

Just to be safe though, I asked the nurse to weigh him when I took him in for his flu booster. To my amazement, he had gained two pounds in under six weeks! He hasn’t gained weight that fast since his first month of life. Of course I was hugely relieved at this news, and once I put my own mess of feelings aside, I was able to see that my son is clearly much happier eating solids than he ever has been with nursing.

So as with any relationship, I found happiness when I put aside my own ego and listened to what my partner was trying to tell me. There is still a part of me — the straight-A overachiever in me — that feels like I “failed” at nursing. But then I look at my happy, healthy, and thankfully growing child, and I know that I did my absolute best. And besides, there’s always next time, right?

1 Comment »

1. Zoe, you did the right thing. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Congrats for persevering, and even more congrats for having the courage to move on. You did not fail at all.

   Comment by Jane — January 25, 2012 @ 6:32 pm

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