Breastfeeding: And now the judgemental bit

[ailbhe]

Breast is best.

A mother's own breastmilk is the healthiest possible food to feed a baby.

Every mother should try to feed her baby this way. An honest, wholehearted try.

I need to say this because it's true, and I didn't mention it in my last big entry. The evidence is there. It's the best thing to do. And, for most of the world, it's the normal thisng to do.

I don't have statistics to hand, and no-one pays me to write this stuff, so I'm not taking the time to look it up. But I have heard - and I find it upsettingly easy to believe - that almost a third of babies born in the UK never have their mother's nipple in their mouth. Even if I'm wrong, and it's only a tenth, that's just so sad. The numbers for babies whose mothers do try aren't great, either - by the time they are nine months old, only about 10% of babies are still being breastfed. That's sad, too. The biggest fall-off is in the first two to four weeks, I believe - because that's when it's hardest.

We've sort of been lied to. We're told that birth is a beautiful natural sharing caring bonding experience, and it is, yes. But it's also hard, painful work. This doesn't mean that a natural home-birth isn't worth working for. It does mean that it's going to be work, and it will hurt, and even afterwards it will hurt at least some, even days afterwards. And we've been told some very similar lies about breastfeeding.

I say that I had no trouble learning to breastfeed. That's not entirely true. Linnea had no trouble learning to breastfeed. I had less trouble learning to breastfeed than, say, sitting up after the birth. But it had its downsides. It hurt - my uterus hurt, my nipples hurt, my wrists hurt from the weight of a baby. And as I learned to do it better, it didn't hurt any more. It helped a lot that I had small breasts and nipples, and Linnea had a big mouth and a strong suck.

While it hurt, I knew it was something I wanted to do. I grew up assuming that everyone breastfed their babies all the time. I knew that babies had bottles, but I had no clear idea of where in the picture they fitted in - a bit like my early ideas about pantyliners, as distinct from sanitary towels, actually, but let's not go into that. And I had my mother, who breastfed 5 babies for increasingly longer periods of time as she gained confidence to defy her doctors, to tell me that the levels of pain were pretty normal and that it would get better.

And we knew Linnea was getting enough because she spat gallons back out again, at least until we sorted the milk intolerance thing.

And after a while - not a long while, but I can't remember when it was - breastfeeding became the high point of my day. I would sit watching her, waiting for her to wake up so that I could feed her, alone in the room with my baby and the spring sunshine coming in the window, maybe watched by a cat. It was idyllic. Now it's maybe not the high point, but it's wonderful to me. She comes to me hungry and thirsty, tells me with her hands and her face and her little pre-speech noises (Hands: milk sign, and vigorous waving. Face: Outright greed and anticipation. Noises: "Ada! Mama! Mum mum mum mum. Mum.") and even climbs onto my chair and pulls up my shirt, if I think it's amusing to make her work that hard for it.

She looks at me during feeds; she'll look sideways up at me as she lies across my lap, and, her mouth full of nipple, laugh while trying to maintain feeding. It doesn't always work, but it's always gorgeous. She pulls away and looks at me with intent, questing eyes. I don't know what she's looking for. She puts her hands in my mouth to try to find it. Then she latches on again. She turns around mid-feed to see why Rob has suddenly left the room; "Dadda!"; and settles back down when I tell her "Back soon." She pulls away and slides down when she's full, and blows raspberries on my tummy.

And I melt into a big maternal pile of lovestruck goo.

Sigh.

And that's how we'll persuade people to breastfeed. By letting them know it's normal. By showing them the good sides as well as the bad sides from a totally selfish perspective. Not from a think of what's best for your baby perspective. Anyone who was going to start because of that has already decided to start. The remaining third aren't being convinced by the science.

But this'll convince them: breastfeeding is so much fun, I gave up chocolate ice-cream. And I'd choose breastfeeding again, any day I was offered the choice.

Comments

[hypatia.livejournal.com]

Its odd but many mothers talk about how they feel pressured into breastfeeding and are made to feel guilty if they don't. I don't recall it being like this at all. I remember every man and his dog telling me that 'breast is best' etc etc but those were only words from lips. Little allowance is made for mothers to feed when out and about. The hospital antenatal room in which these words were spoken was sponsored by a babymilk company. Every post natal ward has made up baby milk to give out to anyone who wants it and it sure as hell can seem an attractive option at the time when sore and tired and getting no sleep in a hospital. The nurses are always so busy, you never want to monopolise their time because you are taking it from another Mother.

There are two reasons why M. was not completely bottle fed after a rather crappy labour and birth in hospital. One was the chance appearance of a student midwife on the post natal ward who had actually *done* it (as opposed to most of the others who as well as being busy had only theoretical knowledge of the subject). The other was the NCT breastfeeding counsellor - an absolute star. She had told us at classes that breastfeeding might be easy but there was an excellent chance that it would be totally crap for a while, probably around the dreaded 4-6 week point. She was right - all five of us wanted to give up at that point, all five of us kept going and somehow after that point it really did get better. She also made time to help us and that was very significant, she really knew what mattered and would make a difference and help keep you going through mastitis, jaundice, food intolerance, illness etc. Instructions are useless - you need someone alongside you who has actually done it. These days few women grow up watching their mothers or siblings feeding babies. We all see adverts for babymilk, many of my Mother's generation grew up on the 'bottle is better' lesson coupled with a conviction that if a baby doesn't sleep four hours between feed early on then you can't be producing enough milk. I was constantly given well meaning but bad advice about this because M was a terrible sleeper and I was so tired all the time.

R. was born at home, one of the key differences was the time people had for me, the fact that I wasn't sharing midwives both pre and post natal with a bunch of other women in an unfamiliar environment. All through the first time I felt worried that I wasn't producing enough/the right sort/etc because he was a bugger for sleeping and always faffed around when feeding and yet from day 1 R. was guzzling away and putting on weight so plainly my body was entirely capable of doing what was necessary. If I hadn't tried it again the second time I'd have remained permanently doubtful that I was really capable of feeding fully, that I had deprived the first one on account of his being awake so much. I believe that the more relaxed environment did make a difference second time around, I also think they had different personalities but mostly that counsellor was directly responsible for two babies not being on the bottle (because I think if I'd failed the first time I'd not have succeeded the second).

[ailbhe]

Did you enjoy it, the second time?

[hypatia.livejournal.com]

Yes undoubtedly, and of course if you can ride it out through the rough patch at the beginning it is also so much *easier* than bottles. I enjoyed the experience of it the first time once past that really grotty patch but was constantly worried that I was doing the right thing. So many people around me were convinced that the frequency with which he wanted feeding was evidence of underfeeding - that and the fact that I never could pump milk effectively. It was the counsellor who kept reassuring me that lots of mothers find they can't pump, even where they feed babies just fine. It was she who kept pointing out that he looked disgustingly health and alert for an underfed baby and that 'fat' did not equate with 'thriving'. She kept me going up until I went back to work at which point I could only do evenings/nights/mornings and I'm profoundly grateful to her but I'd have *enjoyed* it a lot more if I hadn't had the constant niggling worry engendered by others that I wasn't feeding him enough.

Of course that poor undernourished baby is now 6" and still growing rapidly and has had about five days sick from school in his entire life to date (now in yr 10). :^)

It left me absolutely convinced that whatever is said, there is not enough support for breastfeeding mothers at the critical times which coupled with the problems of feeding away from home give a powerful incentive to five up and switch to bottles. I think I was lucky to have the help I had, I wish more people had it.

[hypatia.livejournal.com]

Thinking about it I also read one really useful book about babies. It was 'How not to be a perfect mother' by Libby Purves and its useful because she talks about all the crappy bits of babies as well as the flowery bits. She also points out the breastfeeding can be really ghastly for a while but you should keep going because it ends up being easier and better for you as well as the baby. Her whole approach was very much 'no warts' and much more useful for that.

[helenprev.livejournal.com]

I first read 'How Not To Be a Perfect Mother' by Libby Purves when my oldest child was about 10 weeks old. It saved my sanity - especially the breastfeeding chapter, which was where I realised for the first time that I was not the only one who had really struggled to continue breastfeeding. I went on to be a very happy breastfeeder and none of my 3 children have ever tasted formula (the youngest is now 1).

I have read this book over and over again, and can now quote whole sections of it, verbatim. Everyone who has a baby should read it!