Silicone Rescue                                     

At midnight September second I sat up in the hospital bed to do as all the books and pamphlets instructed - make sure baby opens wide, make sure baby takes as much of the areola as possible, don’t expect the baby to know what to do.  I had to wait until sometime the next morning for a lactation consultant to guide me to nursing success. 

When we started, she assessed that my baby had a high tongue, was fussy at the breast, and that I had flat nipples.  Throughout the morning we tried different nursing positions, I wore breast shields in between feedings, and yet we spent half an hour at each feeding with a screaming baby who wouldn’t latch on.  I left the hospital with bottles of formula, a rental breast pump kit, and an appointment to continue the next day.  

The introduction of the nipple shield ensured my breastfeeding success.  I had a personal commitment to breastfeeding that would take me back to the hospital for a week after my delivery, and my baby was finally happy at the breast.  Carrying a sanitary piece of plastic and a cloth to catch spilled milk became the lifeline for my baby.  I wondered just how long it would take her to be able to latch on naturally, but seeing her writhe and wail every time I attempted a plastic-free latch-on defeated me.

With ears and eyes picking up every detail, my baby girl came to know that this silicone shield was a conduit to her source of food.  At six months she started using her fingers and hands to explore her world up close, and experimented with removing the shield at her whimsy.  It took one week of developing comprehension for her to figure out she could accomplish this latch-on feat on her own.  Now at nine months, her comical nursing acrobatics affirm her latch-on mastery I desperately struggled to preserve.