My Breastfeeding Journey
August marks the start of breastfeeding week, where we celebrate moms around the world and free the stigma behind it.
I experienced a very tough breastfeeding journey with my first boy, R — so much so that after 6 painful months of continuously pumping and trying but failing to latch every day, my husband and I unanimously agreed to stop. I've never shared this with anyone except the mommas in my postpartum doula training group, and today I'm sharing it with you.
In the first 3 weeks of breastfeeding R, he'd gummed on my nipple so hard that it felt like my whole nipple could be lifted off — a few more days and I think it could even have fallen off! (I still have c-shaped scars to this day on my nipple to this day) I was asked to start pumping, which then started the whole nightmarish cycle of R rejecting my breasts as he started favouring the bottle — every breastfeeding momma's nightmare! This nightmare further progressed when we made the long trip to visit R's grandparents in the U.S.; the long hours, anxiety to pump on the plane and jet lag experienced by both myself and my baby caused my supply to start falling.
I remember bursting into tears as I stood in the milk formula aisle in the supermarket, just crying because my baby was going to starve and telling my husband in between sobs that I couldn't bear to feed my baby poison. I visited 7 different IBCLCs in Singapore and the U.S, and everything they suggested still couldn't help me. Eventually, for the sake of my sanity and the health of my baby, we begun mix feeds.
On the 6th month, I still distinctly remember how my husband walked out of the nursery after rocking R to sleep and exclaiming; "Oh honey! Look down!" — I'd gotten so used to my routine of pumping and the pain of it, that I didn't even realize that I'd been pumping blood. It wasn't blood mixed with milk, it was just pure blood. The constant pumping and a mix of many other factors had caused the skin around my areola to split, leading to the extraction of blood instead of milk. Ouch, I know!
At that point, my husband had had enough of watching me suffer. "Baby, you tried. It's been 6 months, and we have enough frozen milk to last R the next 8 to 9 months. Let's stop, okay?" I finally did then. Like birth, the journey of breastfeeding stays with you — forever.
One of the largest contributors to my anxiety when I was pregnant with my second boy, A was the entire breastfeeding debacle — thankfully, second time's the charm! We breastfed everywhere we went; from Bali to Spain, the zoo to the beach, at local coffeeshops and high-class restaurants, and even in the car with it stopped at the shoulder of an expressway as he screamed bloody murder! A turns 2 next month, and we are still breastfeeding!
This picture was taken on our road trip in Spain, after we'd made a stop in Portugal to help with a birth! We'd chanced upon the best seafood place, complete with waves crashing onto the sides of the restaurant. They had the best lobster I'd ever eaten and of course, my favourite drink — Tinto de Verano 🍷 The best part? A gets to taste the delicacies through my breastmilk — no one left behind!
