As if being a new parent isn’t hard enough the expectations that come with it just tops the nonexistent cake.
Breast is best, keep your supply up, don’t brag about your oversupply. Formula? It’s the devil. Feed on demand. Hold off on supplementing but make sure your child isn’t hungry.
I did it. I breastfeed my son for two months. Let me tell you the ugly truth. We BOTH were miserable.
I reeked of sour milk constantly. My breast had a let down when I did something as simple as sneezing. Gray shirts were a no go even with layers of pads tucked into my bra. With much excitement after giving birth to sleep on my stomach once again, I couldn’t due to constant engorgement. I was waking up more to pump then to feed. Running errands took twice as long due to the need to pump in the car. Road trips? What was that. I was exhausted. Overly. My mental health was incredibly at stake because I felt like it’s what SOCIETY told me I needed to do as a mother.
Even though the whole breastfeeding process was a nightmare for me. It was worse for my son.
It was basically liquid poison for his stomach.
Because NOT ALL BABIES ARE THE SAME.
NOT ALL BABIES ARE THE SAME.
He didn’t agree to it. He won’t agree to it. He never will. But I as a mother was selfish. I got it stuck in my head that breast is best. It couldn’t do my son wrong.
His stomach couldn’t handle it. His stomach couldn’t digest it. And I refused to listen. I was blindsided.
His stomach was rock hard. His pooping schedule was abnormal. He was uncomfortable. Gas drops were his best friend. I refused to believe it. I didn’t want to hear that my milk wasn’t good enough for my baby. With my son being born early I knew this was the best thing I could give to him.
I let him down to please others and myself.
It wasn’t until the cries from him wouldn’t stop and tears rolled down my face at 3am. I pulled out the formula.
I made THAT bottle and it KILLED ME TO DO IT.
I swirled that bottle and I put it into the bottle warmer. I basically did myself a walk of shame as I went to go pick up my sweet boy to feed him.
Guess what. He downed it. He loved it. Not a single drop fell down onto his bib and once a burp came out. We sat there at 3am giggling with each other because this was HIS version of liquid gold. He was comfortable and content and moments later there was a massive blow out all up his onesie and I LOVED IT.
Sorry pediatricians but breasts isn’t best Fed is.
Shortly after doctors came to the conclusion my son’s stomach wasn’t able to digest breastmilk. My son’s stomach was CLOGGED up due to high fat content that was out of my control.
The moral of the story is FUCK THE STANDARD.
Feed your baby.
Feed your baby from the breast. Feed your baby from a bottle with pumped milk. Feed your baby supplemented milk. Feed your baby with a tube. Do more of what they need and less what the world expects.
Fulfill your heart by fulfilling their tummy.