I'm excited to share another breastfeeding story from my friend Lindsey- she pumped around the clock for her daughter for NINE whole months. Truly inspiring.
A Pumping Story (Lindsey Walker)
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| Healthy, smart, four year old Riley |
I was a breastfeeding mom. I knew this from a young age. My mom had told me that she breastfed me for six months, so that was my objective as well. At the time, my rationale was to breastfeed for the bonding experience and the health benefits. I would soon find out not only the health benefits, but the mechanics of it as well. When I was in my last trimester, I bought a nursing bra and attended a two-hour course in breastfeeding and an 8-hour pre-natal class. I’m a planner and it helped me feel prepared.
After 26 hours of Pitocin-induced labor, I was elated to hold my sweet daughter in my arms. She spent two seconds on my chest before she was whisked away by the men and women in yellow, who helped her find her first breaths after what felt like an eternity of waiting—especially from my immobile, placenta-delivering position. Then, remarkably, I held her again. Well, barely, because I was exhausted and had sprained my neck during labor while pushing on my side. We spent a lot of skin-on-skin time together, as the doctors encouraged it for bonding and feeding association.
I soon learned that Riley wasn’t interested in my breasts, other than as a pillow. The nurses said it was probably due to the long and rough delivery. Since Riley wouldn’t nurse in the first 24 hours, the nurses set me up on an every two-hour pumping schedule to encourage my breasts to produce milk. My breasts needed a baby’s suckling to encourage milk production, and my body was on some hangover schedule from the Pitocin that made my milk come in more slowly than normal.
Small amounts of colostrum was recovered from my breasts and then quickly put into her mouth with my finger. Since she still had no interest in latching on to my nipples, my colostrum mixed with infant formula was poured into a syringe. A tube connected to the syringe was placed next to my nipple and Riley tried to latch on and receive some of the mixture. We didn’t introduce a bottle because we didn’t want her to have nipple confusion and prefer a bottle over the natural delivery of my breasts. I was reluctant to give her formula but felt it was the best approach until I could produce more milk and she could latch on properly.
Once I arrived home from the hospital, I stayed on my pumping schedule while still trying to syringe and breastfeed Riley. Even when Riley slept more than two hours, my husband would set the alarm so I could pump using the portable Medela pump that my health care provided. I was on a rugged schedule of pumping, Tylenol, and a narcotic for my sprained neck. (The doctors swore it was safe and not transferable to my breast milk.)
When Riley was four days old, I scheduled a home visit with a lactation consultant. She found me upstairs in the fetal position. I told her that she would have to teach me how to breastfeed from that position because I couldn’t support my own neck, sit up, or walk well. She introduced me to a modified football hold and encouraged me to stay on my every two-hour pumping schedule. She said she would return in two days.
Later that afternoon, we visited the pediatrician who weighed Riley and checked her over. He was very gentle and reassuring. I explained to him my breastfeeding issues and he encouraged me to keep trying. Riley had lost 5oz since birth, but he was not alarmed as some weight loss is normal after birth. The next two days moved slowly as I continued on my schedule of feeding and pumping. I was exhausted, but determined.
On the evening of Riley’s fifth day, my milk finally arrived. I felt elated as if I had just received an unexpected million-dollar gift in the mail. It wasn’t the mail man, it was the milk man with a just-in-time delivery of white gold, holy boob juice! My enthusiasm returned and I continued to put Riley to my breast, sometimes with the syringe and sometimes without depending on how much I felt Riley was actually eating, often she would lie there with my breast in her mouth. I would awkwardly give her my milk through the syringe with her mouth almost latched, she would feed, and then I would remove the tube and syringe. I hoped that once the flow of milk came through the syringe, she would start suckling. After every hour of feeding (and burping), she would cry.
My next appointment on Riley’s fifth day was to the chiropractor for my neck. Riley, Dave, and I went but I was very concerned about returning home for my next pumping. My breasts were now engorged, but my sprained neck was significantly improved. I was relieved to focus on feeding my baby.
As promised, the lactation consultant returned on Riley’s sixth day. This time, she came equipped with a hospital grade pump and was surprised to find me sitting in a living room chair with a much-improved neck. She demonstrated different breastfeeding positions, and she encouraged me to continue pumping when Riley didn’t feed well at my breast. Later that day, we returned to the pediatrician. He was pleased to report that Riley had gained an ounce in two days. We would return in four days for another weight check.
Over the next four days, I breastfed Riley every hour or two, and then she’d cry immediately afterward, so I would syringe feed her milk until she was satisfied. This meant my pumping schedule had to continue. I pumped and fed her constantly around the clock. I was exhausted, anxious, and everything felt surreal. If I went anywhere, I returned within two hours so I didn’t miss a scheduled pumping.
When Riley was ten days old, I called the pediatrician again. I was so sleep deprived that I had to find another solution. Since Riley still wasn’t latching, I couldn’t maintain this schedule for much longer and keep up with her demand through a syringe. Riley weighed in at 6lbs 15oz, a weight gain of five ounces in four days. The pediatrician was pleased with her weight gain but recognized syringe feeding wouldn’t work permanently. I met with his lactation consultant who verified that my holds were well positioned and that I was coaxing Riley appropriately. She also noticed that Riley would barely latch and then fall asleep despite that I would undress her for each feeding and rub her feet to keep her awake. She and the doctor conferred and recommended that I try “tough love”: Stop syringe feeding and give Riley a chance to feed only from my breast. In theory, if she were hungry enough she might learn to latch on. I thought they were crazy and worried I’d starve my child. I returned home and cried in the shower.
Over the next three days, I nursed until I hallucinated. When Riley didn’t feed well, I followed breastfeeding with pumping to ensure my milk supply didn’t wane. Two days later, Riley’s diapers were no longer wet and she became lethargic. She didn’t cry much, but she didn’t move much either. Even worse, she was very difficult to wake. We returned to the pediatrician early the next day. This time, he was alarmed. Riley had lost five ounces in three days.
He told me to make a choice. I could formula feed or try pumping all my breast milk. His son had been born with a cleft palette and his wife had successfully pumped her breast milk while caring for their other children. I decided to continue pumping as long as I could. I was disappointed that I wasn’t going to be a successful breastfeeding mom, but I was so comforted to know that I could go home and try to feed Riley a bottle of my breast milk. Riley loved her first bottle and gobbled down every drop.
I called the lactation consultant who had visited my home to inform her of my new plan. She didn’t support the idea as she said most exclusively pumping mothers failed. I told her I wanted to continue renting the hospital breast pump, and she recommended that I pump every three hours even if Riley slept for longer periods. I refused to give up.
When my husband was home, he would feed Riley while I pumped. Eventually, I learned to put Riley in a boppy pillow on a bed in our spare bedroom while I pumped and fed her simultaneously. Hands-free pumping bras were a terrific invention that allowed me to pump and stroke Riley’s hair. I couldn’t hold her, but at least she felt my touch while she fed.
I soon found a rhythm. If I was home, I used the hospital pump. When I was running errands or visiting other people, I brought my portable, battery-powered Medela pump and my hands-free pumping bra. Riley loved her bottle-fed milk. I pumped every three hours for 20 minutes each time, which was enough to feed her as often as she needed. Occasionally, I would try to breastfeed too but she always left my breast hungry.
For the next seven weeks, I pumped every three hours. I pumped everywhere I went. I pumped in the car while my husband drove us to the Jazz Festival. I pumped in the Home Depot, Hannaford, and University Mall parking lots. After shopping for new nursing bras, I pumped in a side street while downtown. Once while visiting family in Montreal, I pumped at a café along the Lachine Canal.
Eventually, my pumping schedule went to every four hours and my milk supply maintained. Riley loved it and steadily gained weight. Soon, I found myself freezing the milk Riley didn’t eat. As the weeks passed, our freezer grew full. We used our parents’ freezers for storage when our freezer had no room left. Three months later, when their freezers were full, we bought a five foot cubic freezer to store the breastmilk.
I was so proud of myself for making it to three months that I kept pumping. Life was easier too because I was pumping every five hours and only woke at night to pump if Riley was up to feed. At six months, I felt like I had earned a trophy! I had my own dairy operation and my little one was a very happy and well-nourished baby.
I pumped for nine months and fed Riley frozen breast milk for another four months. Other than two days while my milk was coming in, Riley never ate formula. Turns out, I wasn’t a breastfeeding mom. I was a pumping mom.
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| Pumping while my aunt feeds Riley |
