Like many women, I had a traumatic birth. By the time our baby arrived into this world I felt frazzled to say the least! Once I saw our baby though, it all melted into oblivion. Now as the months slip by it has become irrelevant in the greater scheme of things.
One thing I hadn’t bargained for when my son was born, was to be unable to breast feed. My midwife had warned me that, I may be at risk from being unable to, but I have to admit I had brushed this notion aside and was positive that myself and my baby would figure it out. I hadn’t even brought a single bottle, so strong was my belief.
In the hospital I felt thoroughly devastated. My efforts to get my son to latch on were unsuccessful. We tried and tried and then tried some more – but nothing. The pain was excruciating, not only could my son not latch on, but at that point I was producing nothing. I believe it must have been from the stressful birth. I felt thoroughly unhinged and believed that even before our son was out of the hospital I had already failed him as a mother. Unable to provide him with the very basic essentials on which he needed for his survival. I can still remember watching as my husband attempted to feed him sugar-water from a dropper ! With assistance from one of the nurses – how thoroughly dreadful for a new mom.
As the day went on, I did begin to produce a tiny amount of colostrum, which I carefully fed to my baby. The amount wasn’t significant enough to satisfy him, so I had to also begin to feed him formula. When I saw those tiny bottles I felt a whole range of emotions. Firstly OMG I can’t believe I am feeding our new baby formula, but also I felt an immense gratification. There is a means by which to feed our baby ! One that we would not have had hundreds of years a go. So there at that very moment, my relationship with formula began……….