Believing in “Tincture of Time”

Jack was born October 8, 1997.  I was 22, single, and totally oblivious to what I was about to accomplish.  If my labor was hard, I don’t remember it.  If Jack’s birth was less than I expected, I erased it from my memory.  Jack was born by c-section, which was not what I expected, but I don’t beat myself up over it mostly because my mother said it was okay and Jack’s delivery felt every bit like what I imagine a natural delivery would have felt like—the excitement, relief, fear, happiness, love—every bit of it was in that room.  Jack appeared to have been a little over cooked and doctors thought he may have aspirated meconium.  So, he spent some time in the NICU.  I don’t think I realized how serious everything was and what all this meant.  My mother was with me and she seemed to be reacting okay, so I figured if she was okay, then Jack would be okay.

After Jack’s birth, my mother and father left to have something to eat, but returned shortly.  My mother returned with this monstrosity of a breast pump and that is where my incredible journey into breastfeeding mother began.  Since I was separated from Jack and he was unable to nurse the way a regular newborn would, I started pumping, every 1 ½ to 2 hours around the clock.  12 hours after Jack was born, my mother wheeled me to officially meet my son.  He was beautiful.  Beautiful mouth, beautiful toes and finger, beautiful arms and legs, beautiful baby boy.  At this point, Jack was still under an oxi-hood getting 100% oxygen.  I was scared when I saw him and I sensed my mother was scared as well.

I continued pumping, not getting very much and by not very much I mean 0-10 cc’s per pumping-- from both breasts.  For those who don’t have to measure their milk by cc’s 0-10 cc’s in 0-1/3 of an OUNCE!!!!!  My breasts weren’t seeming to change too much… all the signs that mine were normal functioning milk producing breasts weren’t there, but we were certain once Jack could nurse that would change.  Of course it would…  I mean what more could happen to the daughter of a nurse-turned-midwife-turned-lactation consultant?  HAH!!!! Plenty as you will soon read.

Jack nursed for the first time on Saturday October 11th.  He had been moved to the transitional preemie nursery.  O gosh, he was the biggest healthiest baby there and I felt so blessed by that.  Our first nursing experience was awkward at best.  The nursery nurses cloistered us or should I say hid us from the rest of the world behind a privacy screen… me, Jack, my mother, and my aunt who had never planned on seeing my breasts in her lifetime, let alone a newborn sucking on them.  Anyway, the experience was awkward, but we moved past it quickly.  Jack was a pro, born to nurse.  He was still tired from the trauma of his short life thus far so he fell asleep quickly…. We switched him back and forth until he seemed to be out for a bit.  Then it was back to my room to pump…then back to feed Jack…then back to pump…. and I  bet you get the picture.  

Jack was released from the hospital the very next afternoon.  I went to the nursery to dress him.  He was so angered by the whole ordeal he only made it in to the onesie of the 3-piece ensemble I had packed for him.  The nurse gave me his feeding and care instructions as if I was taking home a new puppy and we were on our way.  The car ride home was not pleasant.  Jack was unhappy, I couldn’t sooth him in his car seat and I actually think my father may have been videotaping the actual road to document Jack’s first car trip.  This was not only his first grandbaby, but also his first video camera!

We got home, settled in, nursed the baby, and laid the baby down…. He very shortly woke up and he nursed again…nursed some more…and more.  I know this is a very long story, but every detail seems so important to the rest of the story.  The afternoon progressed into the night and the real adventure began.  He was so unhappy, was it his tummy, something hurting him, or was he hungry?  We did a pre and post-feeding weight on a hospital grade scale and Jack actually lost weight during that feeding.  I was shocked.  I was so confused about what could be happening.  I was young and for the most part healthy and Jack was a healthy thriving newborn who was a great nurser.  Immediately, my mother turned into my mother the lactation consultant.  There was an immediate plan of action.  

We sent my father to the Texas Children’s Hospital milk bank to retrieve the milk I forgot there.  It barely amounted to an ounce, but it was soooo precious.  We purchased some formula.  The first feeding he did away from the breast was with a syringe.  My mother finger fed him the milk we had.  I remember she put some water in an Avent bottle, but he was disinterested in the bottle.  We next decided the best way for him to get his food was at the breast.  SO, we hooked a Lact-aid, a tube device that attaches to a bag of milk with a tube that attaches to the breast.  We would let him nurse with the lactated and when he was done (sometimes an hour later) we would document what he ate by doing a pre and post feeding weight (if the scale said he got .7 ounces at the breast and there was .5 in the Lactaid bag, we new he got .2 ounces at the breast) and I would double pump for 15-30 minutes.

This became quite a routine for us. Hook up Lactaid, Weigh, Nurse, Weigh, Pump. We did this everyday for 6 weeks.  All the while, we were visiting my brother who was at a hospital, of sorts, every week in Canton, Texas.  This process made a 4-hour trip sometimes 8-10 hours long.

Day after day, my milk supply slowly increased cc by cc as my mom has said in the past.  By the time Jack was 8 weeks old we were not using any formula or borrowed milk.  I was still pumping for my own piece of mind, but eventually I stopped that too.  I never made enough extra to give him bottles or leave to go off to work.  My mother made that easy for me.  She had a stake in my breastfeeding relationship too.  She wasn’t going to make me jeopardize that.  I was able to stay home with Jack full time for 15 months, but our breastfeeding relationship carried on much longer.  

Why did we do it?  I did it because it was important to me.  I always give my mom all the credit because had she not been around, I wouldn’t have done it,  She always puts the credit right back on me saying I did most of the work.  I never said anything to anyone, but I didn’t want to breastfeed for very long, maybe 3 or 6 months. When I finished my journey I used to joke that Jack better nurse until he was 18 or else!!!  

I called my mother the other night because some of the details were pretty hazy to me.  I had her refresh my memory.  When we started to talk about it again… It really made me think, would I do it again?  Yes.  No doubt in my mind yes.  And the biggest reason is because through all that hard work, I came out on the other side with a wonderful child and a better mom.  And with everything I have forgotten there are 2 memories that stay with me, the first time my baby nursed at 3 days old and the last time he nursed when he was 33 months old.