Breastfeeding \\ for the third time.

This post isn't about whether you should breastfeed or not, it is simply my experience. I've enjoyed 2 wonderful breastfeeding experiences and then a 3rd, which was cut short and left my son on his death bed, literally.
I've been wanting to share my story for a long time, but I have not, because it's a story I feel ashamed about, for many reasons. I came across a post I wrote back when Abel was 4.5 months, still breastfeeding, and the anger and sadness built up again, so now I share it.

This post was written the day after Abel's 4 month checkup:

Last night was a hard night for me.
You see, I'm not too great with emotions, especially crying. I've never liked crying in front of anyone... so if I'm crying, you can bet it's bad. It's why I'm so sarcastic, I hide behind sarcasm. This I know... I also know I should see a shrink... but for many more reasons than just this one.
Let me back up to yesterday morning. We had ballet. 10 AM. Now normally 10 AM seems like a decent hour, but it's a long drive there, and getting myself and three kids ready means I have to start getting ready to leave no later than 7AM or we're late. Add that I was out of K-cups and my morning was bound to fail.
We were 10 minutes late to ballet.
After ballet we had Abel 4 month doctor appointment. But not until 1:15, which meant I had to burn over 2 hours because I wasn't making the trek back home for 20 minutes just to make it again. So off to lunch we went, which only used up an hour. Needless to say, both older kids were burnt out by the time this appointment started. They were whining and not listening at all. The doctor asked how Abel has been sleeping and the convo went something like this:
Me: Sleep... no... he doesn't sleep.
Doctor: Not at night... orr.....
(silence... other than whiney kids pulling on me)
Me: Uhm... no not really ever. He doesn't sleep longer than 20 minute spurts. The longest is maybe 45 minutes and that's if I have the vacuum running, because it's the only thing that will soothe him.
Doctor: So how do you usually put him down
Me: Well I hold him like this and walk and bounce... sometimes he'll fall asleep nursing, but if I move he's up.
Doctor: (looking at me like I'm a fucking three eyed monster) So you're pretty sleep deprived. Why do you think he's not sleeping.
Me: (uhmmm, I'm paying you to tell me Doc!) Idk, I recently read an article that Dr. Sears wrote about needy babies. I think he's just a needy baby (insert foot to mouth!!!!!!)
Doctor: mmmhmmmm. And what does Dr Sears say to do
Me: uhm... nothing.. just do what baby wants.
OK... I see where this convo is going, and I don't like it one bit. So he asks a few more questions about sleeping, diapers and eating. Stone won't stop pulling on me so I pick him up and hold him on my hip while answering and over-explaining my parenting technique.
Meanwhile, the nurse comes in with my phone, which I hadn't notices was missing. I grab it, say thank you and the door is shut. The doctor keeps talking, and I do a head count, cause a door was open and I only see two kids.
Me: Where's Stone. Stone. STONE. Adelyn, where is your brother? Where is he? Did he slip out the door?
I start to feel a panic attack and am looking everywhere, behind the doctor, behind the bed. The doctor is just staring at me. What the fuck are you looking at... my kid is missing! I go to open the door, and as I turn the handle I look over and see Stone, looking at me like I am crazy, right there on my hip, and I finally feel his weight.
Me: oh... HELLO.
Doctor: Yea, you're pretty sleep deprived. So what do you think I'm going to tell you to do about that.
Me: I already know.... Cry-It-Out. He's not even 5 months. Don't you think it's too soon? I don't think he's ready.
Doctor: I will explain my reasoning, but there are very few babies that come in here at 4 months who are not sleeping through the night.
Way to rub it in Doc! I won't bore you with any more details. He pretty much told me what I already knew. Said other than that Abel is perfect... a little lean.. but perfect.
After thinking things over, and talking a bit with Craig, we decided to try it. Commit. And before all you Attachment Parenting crazies attack me, know I feel ya. I'm right there with ya... WTF am I thinking. I knew I couldn't do it. I tried with Adelyn when we hit sleep regression, one peep and I swooped her up. Never again. But. I. Am. Desperate. I knew it would be hard.
We followed our normal bedtime routine with the kiddo's. I made sure Abel was full and dry. I told him he it was time for bed, kissed him a bajillion times and sang Twinkle Twinkle. Laid him down in his crib. Said sweet dreams and shut the door. I waited for it. The wailing. I can't even set him down in front of me without that wailing. I busied myself picking up strewn toys, waiting for that scream....
Crickets.
Nothing... not a peep.
An hour later he started fussing, not crying really. I sent Craig in to comfort him, which somewhat worked. But then about 15 minutes later he was crying. I waited about about 6 minutes. 6 horrible long minutes and went in. I turned him onto his back, patted his belly and sang to him a few more times, replacing his paci and leaning in to kiss his chubby cheeks as many times as I could before forcing myself out of his room.
And not a peep since.
You guys, he's my baby. My baby is sleeping on his own. He doesn't even sleep this long when I'm rocking him! Pretty soon he'll be a toddler, like the other two, and I will be out of babies. I know I'm looking forward to the days we can just up and go somewhere without packing the whole house, but this is just a bit too much right now. He's our last. (pretty sure he is! Craig is 100% sure) and he's growing a bit too fast for my liking.

Fast forward 1.5 months to Abel's 6 month checkup. Our normal pediatrician was not there, so a replacement came in to visit with us. We chatted a bit about Abel, and she asked if I had concerns. I told her that my only concern was with how small he was. He had no fat on his body. I had told her that I know I am lean, and that both Adelyn and Stone were lean babies, but that they weren't this lean. To which she broke the news. He was malnourished. They had to take some blood samples to be sure there was no other underlying cause, but that she was pretty certain he was not getting enough to eat.
Do you know what that's like. Hearing that you're starving your child. You're the sole source of his nutrition, the only source of food for him, and he is malnourished. So much so, that the idea of admitting him into the ER was considered. I couldn't control my hysterical crying… that ugly cry where your face mashes up and snot and spit and tears are all one big blob on your face.
She told me I had to stop breastfeeding and start him on formula now, as in… I'm bringing you a bottle and he will drink it all or he will be admitted to the hospital. Complete devastation. After getting his test results back, his doctor said that it could have been just the matter of days before his liver just shut down completely. He could have died.

When I read the post quoted above tonight, I got stuck on the line that reads "(the pediatrician) Said other than (not sleeping) Abel is perfect... a little lean.. but perfect." You see, when I went to his 4 month checkup, I relayed the same concerns to that pediatrician, that he was too skinny, no fat on his legs or arms. I was reassured that he was just lean, it's 'in his genes': I'm lean, his father is lean, and his siblings were lean babies, so Abel was just lean. After this new pediatrician went over Abels charts, she couldn't believe that no actions or steps were taken at his previous visit. She stated that if she had seen his charts then, she would have took action, at least taken a blood sample to see if his liver enzymes were elevated, which would indicate malnourishment. That doctor, though, did nothing. When I told him my son was not sleeping through the night, probably because he was starving, that doctor told me to let him "cry-it-out", to which I did… which most likely contributed to his malnourishment even more. And while YES, laying Abel in his own crib to fall asleep worked, and he never really cried-it-out, he seems to do well sleeping on his own, it still has me writhing with anger. I just don't understand how I could put all my trust into a doctor, someone I take my children to, someone who is suppose to keep my kids healthy, only to turn a blind eye to an apparent problem. If the problem was found when I first voiced concern, we could have taken steps to avoid supplementing and we could have fixed his latching issues… possibly. This doctor said that while Abel's malnourishment was definitely not as extreme as it was now, but it most likely would have been detected at 4.5 months if they ran a blood test to check his liver enzymes.

I'm more angry with myself, for not trusting my gut, or mother's instinct.. whatever you want to call it. I should have pushed more at that 4 month check-up. Made my concerns heard, instead of brushed off.

I continued to breastfeed and pump while supplementing formula. Abel was required to drink 40 ounces of formula/breastmilk from a bottle per 24 hours to get his weight up. I had to take him daily to have his weight charted. I met with lactation consultants to try and figure out was was wrong, I was getting enough milk from a pump, so I couldn't understand why he wasn't getting enough to eat. It turns out that Abel was accustomed to a bad latch, not bad enough to cause me pain, or cause him to not get any milk, but enough to turn him into a lazy sucker. He would suck just enough to get the let down, and then that was it. He wouldn't stay on the breast long enough to get the hind milk. By just drinking the fore milk (fast flowing milk) he was getting enough to tie him over until the next feeding, but in no way getting enough to thrive.

We lasted breastfeeding for 9 months, one day I was pumping 6 ounces, the next there wasn't a drop. It's the shortest time I've ever breastfed. To say I felt like, and still feel like, a complete failure as a mom, woman and human is an understatement. He's 15 months now, and it's hard, because in my head, we should still be sharing that bond, a bond that was ripped away too soon.

I think one of the reasons I've waited so long to share my story, other than feeling ashamed, is because I really don't want to turn anyone away from breastfeeding. The #1 reason moms wean their baby, is because of concerns of not getting enough milk, and I know my story will play into their fears. But there are ways to know how much your baby is getting when he/she breastfeeds. It's as simple as weighing them naked before they nurse, and then weighing them again, on the same scale after they nurse. You'll be able to see how many ounces they've taken in. As long as your baby is gaining weight, they are getting enough. Baby's don't have to be chubby to be nourished.

Before Abel, I was very judgmental when it came to breastfeeding. I could not understand why anyone would choose to supplement. Even when people would say "I tried everything"… I usually just rolled my eyes and thought sure ya did. I thought I knew it all because I successfully nursed 2 babies past 12 months. When moms would talk about their milk supply diminishing over night, I would tell them it's a supply-demand and that it's not possible, keep nursing/pumping and it will come back. I was shown my arrogance was foolish. I was put in the exact situation of so many others I judged and proven that sometimes doing everything doesn't work. I had a closed mind, and for that the universe chose to show me my ignorance. I know some real read this, with the same arrogance I had, and that is ok, I've been there, too.




Abel is very healthy, he made a full recovery and the doctors do not think that he will have any long term issues. Thank God!I hope that this post is not read and shared as and excuse "this is why I didn't breastfeed" or "breastfeeding caused this baby to be malnourished" because it's not my intent. My hope is that people read this and trust the fact that a mother's gut feeling is sometimes better than a doctors opinion, and to make herself HEARD when she needs to be.