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HomeKids & FamilyBreast PumpsShould I Breastfeed my Child?

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I was forced to breastfeed.

Apr 18 '00



Yep, as far as I see it, I was forced to breastfeed. My husband handed me an ultimatum. If I wanted to bear his children, I would nurse them. Period, end of discussion as far as he was concerned.

I was raised in a family that bottlefeeds. I was told at a young age about binding your breasts after delivery to stop your breasts from making milk. I was taught how to make bottles of formula for my cousins, about how to prop up a bottle on a receiving blanket, etc. I was told that every woman in my family went from an A cup to an E cup when they had their first baby, even though none of them breastfed, and their breasts stayed that size. As a C cup at the age of 14, I was scared about how big my own breasts would become.

It wasn't easy for me to accept my husband's ultimatum. To put it simply, I was disgusted by the thought of putting a child to my breast. But I did want to have children with him, didn't I?

Then, I started to research the whole subject. I found out about why formula was made, the problems with formula over the years from recalls for contamination to putting too much or not enough of vital ingredients into formula. I read on. I learned about nursing on cue, about child led weaning, and more. My eyes began to open.

By the time my first daughter was born, I was ready to give the whole nursing thing a shot. I figured, I'd stick with it for six weeks. Everything I read seemed to agree that not only are the first six weeks such an important time for breastfeeding, but they also tend to be the roughest and once you passed that point you could reevaluate your decision.

Well, everything I read was right. Those first six weeks were pretty much hell. We got off on the wrong foot in the hospital. Our first feeding occurred nearly six hours after her birth, after a 16 hour induced labor, and after the nursery staff had introduced a pacifier against my wishes. She latched on, suckled, and fell asleep in my arms. The staff was no help, the lactation consultant was off for the weekend, and all the nurses wanted her feedings scheduled by the clock. I got out of there as soon as I could.

Nursing wasn't as easy as inserting Boob A into Baby B. We had latch on problems. I'd grit my teeth and bite back screams as she latched on to my bleeding nipples. We were lucky though, we were able to resolve those problems ourselves thanks to handy pictures on the internet.

The formula companies did their best to tempt us. My pantry was full of shiny bottles of milky looking brown formula, pre-sterilized nipples, and more. I could almost HEAR the bottles mocking me as I sat on our bed with tears streaming down my face struggling to get us both in the correct position. But anytime I thought of giving in and giving my daughter a bottle, I thought of how disappointed my husband would be. I didn't want to hurt HIM by not having our nursing relationship succeed.

Our pediatrician wasn't very pro-breastfeeding either. My daughter was born small and didn't grow along the lines of the chart. She wasn't gaining fast enough for him. Online friends assured me that those charts were based on formula fed children and meant nothing to my daughter's growth. My daughter was hitting all of the developmental milestones well ahead of time, she was healthy, and she was petite, just like me. The pediatrician had us coming in weekly for weight checks, pushed supplementation on us like a threat, badgered me with questions about how often and how long she was feeding. I couldn't stand the stress of going to that pediatrician after a few months and finally quit taking her in for well-baby checks at nine months of age.

Family was my biggest nemesis though. "When are you going to wean her?" started when she was two weeks old. "She's too old for that now" at three months of age. "Are you STILL breastfeeding her?" by the time she was six months old. Lucky for me, there's some great online resources about how to handle those remarks. A smile and a nod usually sufficed, or as she got older, a tricky "Oh yes, we've started weaning already" (which to me meant that we'd started her on solid foods, not a bottle).

As you can tell by reading, we did make that six week mark. And I decided, hey, this nursing thing ain't that bad. Figured I'd stick it out until she was six months old. That point came and went. By 10 months of age, she'd ask to nurse. Our "code word" is nin-nins. Pretty soon, we approached her first birthday. Was I ready to think about nursing a TODDLER? To cross this milestone into EXTENDED nursing? I was amazed at how easy it was for me to say "Of course we're not ready to wean" when I'd had such a hard time convincing MYSELF to nurse in the first place.

Not only have I found myself nursing a toddler, but when my daughter was 10 months old, I got pregnant again. That was another dilemma. Was I ready to nurse through a pregnancy? Would my daughter want to wean as my milk changed flavors or lessened in quantity? I found an obstetrician who was supportive of nursing through a pregnancy. I read about nursing through a pregnancy, and even on the subject of tandem nursing. My daughter is now 17 months old and I'm 32 weeks pregnant. We've dealt with alot of obstacles to reach this point. More comments from family, a milk supply that diminished to almost nil, teething, sore nipples, and more. Yes, I AM planning on tandem nursing my two girls. It's hard to believe sometimes that in just 8 short weeks I will have two children who will find comfort and nourishment in my arms, but I am looking forward to it.

I'm happy my husband forced me to choose breastfeeding. Nursing my daughter has opened my eyes to so much, this incredible bond I have with her is sensational, and I have learned so much about what a woman's body is supposed to do. When my daughter lays her head on my breast and looks up at me with her big blue eyes and tells me "Mama, nin-nins nummy!", I melt. Thank you, dear, for forcing me to do the best for our family.


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