Regrets...I have a few.

I'm sitting here crying because I just read a lovely post from Any Mommy, titled Mother's Milk...it's about breastfeeding.  It brought up all kinds of memories and reminded me how mad I am.

Since I reserve the right to use this blog as therapy....feel free to leave right now if you don't want to hear me talk about my (*)(*)  and come back tomorrow. (please come back tomorrow)

I breastfed Alex less than an hour after he was born. It was a struggle at first but once we got home it became easier. He was a hungry little guy and he always made the sweetest little drunk face when he was done.

He became a huge fan of (*)(*) and got his Grandpa Bob to take him to Hooter's when he was only a few weeks old.  Grandpa Bob also bought him a special shirt.

his shirt says I *heart* Boobies!

Since Alex was my first and only baby....I was able to devote huge amounts of time to feeding, cuddling and adoring him.  Those were leisure days of hanging out staring into each other's eyes, daily photo shoots where I dressed him in new outfits and naps.  It was a dreamy time that I'll never forget and always long to return to.


When Alex was about 3 months old, my supply dropped.  I couldn't figure out what was wrong and had to start giving him formula because he wasn't getting enough to eat.  I tried everything I could to bring my supply back...including drinking beer.


Which wasn't the best idea, I discovered,  because the reason for my milk drying up was because I was pregnant again.  And I was devastated that I couldn't nurse anymore.  Our special time each day and him reaching up with his little hand to touch my face...was over. 


I had Calvin take a picture of me nursing him (Alex...not Calvin) one last time and it's a picture I'll cherish forever.


Fast forward 7 months....Mallory is born; three weeks early.  She is jaundiced and requires a bili blanket for  the first week of her life.  She was immediately taken from me when I delivered her and wasn't brought back to my room for 6 hours.  During that time, the nurses had asked my permission to give her formula because she obviously needed to eat and they refused to bring her to me.  Finally, I tried to nurse her and she didn't want anything to do with it.  I tried for hours....


The next morning, the nurses told me to stop because it was better for her to drink formula due to the high levels of bilirubin.  They told me formula would remove it from her body faster and that breastfeeding slows it down.  I believed them and reluctantly stopping trying to feed her...and it broke my heart.


And this is why I'm mad.  Read this quote from breastfeeding-basics.com.

The colostrum and milk she receives will help her move her bowels, speeding up the elimination of bilirubin from her system A sick baby needs the benefits of breastmilk even more than a healthy baby.

I'm mad that the nurses didn't let me nurse her immediately and then lied to me and told me it was better for her if I didn't nurse at all. I'm mad that because I didn't have a good enough reason to hold my new baby constantly for the first week of her life, my mother in law held her instead while I cared for Alex.  I'm mad that Mallory and I didn't get to have that special time together and it took us weeks to really bond.


And I'm mad that I didn't stand up for myself and what I wanted.