I went to visit another new mommy the other day. We chatted for a while about how we were doing, emotionally and physically...and then her baby got hungry. She smiled at me apologetically, and then took out her boob to breastfeed. What I witnessed was the perfect textbook breastfeeding session. Baby lets mom know she's hungry, mom produces boob, baby latches (which took all of 3 seconds) and then sucks faithfully until full, breaking for the occasional burp (but then latching back on without hassle).
I was floored.
Of course, Bradley decided in a half hour's time that he, too, was hungry and so I took out my boob with a little trepidation and some embarrassment at the impending battle I knew my friend would witness.
Yes, friends, it's been three weeks (and a bit) since Bradley came into the world and we had our first Adventures in Breastfeeding. He has now figured out how to latch and then feed, and is gaining weight. His little cheeks are filling out and he is developing the most fetching pot belly. But for some reason which still escapes my understanding, he isn't happy about it. No, not at all. Instead, I wrestle with my 3-week-old infant for at least 5 minutes to make him understand that the boob is a friend, not a foe. The boob brings nourishment and comfort (and big relief for mommy when it's finally emptied)...it shouldn't need the battering it gets every time we try to latch.
Some of you may have read an earlier note, and may be familiar with the term "Latch Game". The Latch Game, for those of you who don't know, entails baby to latch, suck for a small amount of time, and then become unlatched and upset about it. The Latch Game, which seems fairly harmless now in comparison, has morphed into Battle of the Boob, whereupon the infant simultaneously loves and hates the nipple, and the boob it is attached to.
Let me paint the picture for you. Baby indicates he is hungry. Mom produces boob. Baby looks at boob with obvious appreciation and even desire (eyes light up, mouth makes sucky motions while simultaneously grinning...very cute). The part I didn't mention is that the hands begin to flail with excitement, which is what probably ruins the whole experience right from the beginning. Mom cups baby's head in opposite hand (cross-cradle hold for all you mommies out there) and grasps boob with same-side hand, then guides head to nipple (also a textbook move). This is where all breastfeeding-hell breaks loose.
Baby's mouth opens to receive nipple, while placing a hand on either side of the nipple and PUSHING WITH ALL OF ITS MIGHT!! So just as baby latches, it pushes off at the same time. Shakes his head in frustration, as if he doesn't know what hit him, and tries again. Can we just also mention here that the force baby used to push off would've thrown himself right onto the floor if it wasn't for Mom's hand grasping and desperately holding him on the boob?
Baby's mouth opens again, a more determined look on his face. Mom guides baby's head to boob. This time, instead of just pushing off the boob with both hands, baby also arches his back, throws his head backwards (taking the nipple with it), and kicks the other boob with his feet. If Mom wasn't holding on carefully, baby would've launched himself across the room with this force.
Repeat. Repeat. REPEAT until baby is so tired, he cannot possibly push himself off anymore and finally just gives up, latches on, and sucks happily for about 8 minutes until such time as a burp would be prudent. By this point, baby has had some fuel and has gotten a second wind, so the whole process repeats for the next latch.
My boobs are black and blue. My nipples feel like they have been sandpapered by paper with a coarse grain. This is abuse and I shouldn't have to take this, when other mothers seem to have established their breastfeeding with no problem by this point!! I think I should establish a new club, called MAAM - Mothers Against Abuse of Mammaries. No, this has nothing to do with getting a mammogram - ladies, get your mammograms when you're supposed to. Nope, this group targets infant abuse of mammaries. It's so not fair. But as with anything else in life, we are reminded that life is not fair and we need to move on.
This past week, I became aware that I spend at least 10 hours of each day with a baby at my breast (sometimes feeding, more often than not, abusing)... and that I exist right now for the sole purpose of keeping this little being alive to abuse another day. Incredible.
It's a darn good thing he's cute, that's all I have to say.
Is that boob for me?
So, back to the present story at my friend's house, Bradley played the Latch Game for three minutes, then latched and was content to suck the way a good baby should. He fed from both boobs without incident, showing me he really does know what he's on about...and then proceeded to spit up the entire contents of his stomach all over himself (45 minutes of good breastfeeding down the drain), gurgle happily, and fall right to sleep. It's a darn good thing he's cute. And that pot belly really is quite fetching...
The Pot Belly
No comments:
Post a Comment