Thursday, October 19, 2006

The ubiquitous post-infertility breastfeeding post

When I was in elementary school, I had a friend with whom I had what we dubbed a love/hate relationship. Quite honestly, I remember very little else about our friendship except this. I’m afraid I’m going to develop the same sort of relationship with breastfeeding.

Breastfeeding challenge #1: I had always hoped to be able to BF the babies, but after everything else, I tried not to set myself up for supreme disappointment if I had problems (which I thought I might, given the whole PCOS thing). At about 18 weeks into the pregnancy, I started leaking colostrum. The first time I pumped in the hospital, I netted something like 40cc of colostrum. And then almost nothing. The attending ped had us start supplementing MissM with formula, because she was little and lost a lot of weight. At the time I freaked, but this ped had read my file, and listened to me, and told me she thought we’d be fine - that the trauma of delivery and the subsequent bloodloss had slowed my milk, but that given my history she didn’t expect problems with supply. And sure enough, probably as a result of the insane pumping at the beginning, I ended up with nothing less than an oversupply.

Breastfeeding challenge #2: Oversupply is not actually a good thing. At least not for the babies (though it does wonders for stocking the freezer). Oversupply is linked to overactive letdown (OAL), which can cause a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance, which means the baby gets full up on foremilk and never gets to the rich hindmilk. Most breastfeeding resources that address this suggest fixes that don’t make sense if you’re nursing twins, but thankfully I found a resource with some specific suggestions (most useful to me: give each kid a dedicated breast for a day or longer) and made it work.

Breastfeeding challenge #3: MissM developed silent reflux. This may or may not have been connected to the OAL. There’s nothing quite like latching your baby on only to have her scream and pull away in discomfort. It’s a particularly painful cry. I only slightly prefer the cry of disgust that she gives in response to her acid meds. (Whoever thought to make medicine for babies that tastes like menthol clearly never had to force it into their child’s mouth. Why, oh why can’t they make the stuff taste like sugar?)

Breastfeeding challenge #4: Neither kid has been particularly interested in bottles. Oh sure, there’s the occasional time when they’ll accept a bottle, but for the most part they’ve turned up their noses at the whole concept. We’ve tried 4 kinds. We’re probably not persistent enough with the bottles, or so we thought, until I tasted some of my stored breast milk. Eeesh, no wonder they don’t want the bottles. But here’s the thing. I’m just now ready to leave them for a few hours, after months of being unable to conceive of being away. And it’s now that I have no way to leave, or no way to leave them to be fed.

I’ve done the research, and we’re going to do a trial run with the scalding of the milk, but given that I’ve barely had time to pump lately, I’m not sure how I’m going to add another step to the pumping process. The far easier solution would be to give them formula when I need to be away. But for them to take bottles easily, they need to do so regularly - every day or two. It was one thing to think that we’d give them a bottle a day of breast milk. It’s quite another to think about giving them formula, especially if my breasts and I are actually around. And it’s the final straw for me in thinking that even in this my body sucks just a bit.

I do love some parts of breastfeeding. I love the look on B’s face when he’s in that firmly latched, comfortably zoned out state. I love that M has conquered her latching difficulties and even with her tiny little mouth can take what she needs. I love the way their hands grasp at my bra strap, how their whole bodies get caught up in nursing. I love the moments when I’m not supposed to be doing anything else but nursing. I love that I have the ability to comfort and soothe them. (I know it’s not the only way, but it’s the way that only I can offer.) I love that for the most part, breastfeeding is convenient and portable.

But breastfeeding twins is hard. It’s really really hard. It’s physically and emotionally draining even on the best days, and on days when my breastmilk causes one of my babies to cry in pain, it’s like a knife in my gut. When I’m exhausted, but I’m the only source of food. When I can’t leave, even for a minute.

I love breastfeeding, and sometimes I hate it. And in the end, I want to remember much more than that.

Sunday, October 15, 2006


I was planning to write a fun and exciting post about the babies and how fantastic they are and how we went to a pumpkin patch today and took cute pictures (well, I managed to squeeze that in, at least) but instead I’m busy researching my funky breastmilk and trying to decide if on top of everything else I’m going to scald the milk to neutralize the excess lipase, or if I’m just going to cave and use formula when someone else needs to feed the babies. And thinking that this might be the real reason that my kids are completely disinterested in bottles - maybe it’s not the method of delivery, but the contents. Having tasted the milk, I can safely say EEEUUCHHH.

I have a whole series of posts brewing, but since the only time I think of what I want to write is in my 5 minutes of shower time every-other-day-if-I’m-lucky, well, the list is all I can come up with right now. So, here are the things I’d write about, if I had the time*:

- my relationship with my post-partum body
- breastfeeding
- being the primary parent
- things people say to us about our twins
- meeting other moms
- the latest happenings at playgroup (the quick version: I just found out how many of the moms are newlyweds who got pregnant within a few months of getting married. It’s a lot. Ugh.)
- sleep routines
- hiring a nanny/babysitter

* I might one day have enough time to write (or just to scratch my ass in peace) if that last item works out. So far, no luck, but we’re interviewing someone tomorrow. The initial plan is that this person will work side by side with one of us, but will eventually be a solo-caregiver. Because aside from the lack of ass scratching, I could use some sleep, and a pair of pants that fit, and shoes. It’s normal that my feet are a different size now, right?