The Ups and Downs of Nursing

by Barbara Behrmann, Ph.D.

©2006

When I was pregnant with my first daughter, I watched a short video in which a still glistening baby went directly from the birth canal to its mother's abdomen.  The mom had received no medication during her birth so the baby was wide-eyed and alert.  Until I saw this video (Delivery:  Self-Attachment), I had no idea that unmedicated babies who aren't separated from their mothers often have the ability to find the nipple and latch on, all on their own.   No need to tickle the baby's mouth, wait for the right moment, and shove the baby's head onto the breast.  When the natural process is not disturbed, the baby is far more capable than we realize. 

Like many mothers in today's obstetrical world, the reality I faced immediately after my daughter's birth was as far removed from this scenario as, to paraphrase Mark Twain, a lightening bug is from lightening.  I was blown away.  Not because I was instantly smitten, but because I had absolutely no understanding that there could be a flip side to the reality depicted in the video.

After a long and arduous labor, my daughter was born floppy and bluish.  Before I even knew what was happening, an emergency team of god-knows who was deep-suctioning her and working to improve her breathing.  When we were reunited about an hour later, the last thing she was interested in was a breast twice the size of her head.  Not only did she show no interest in nursing, but for days, whenever I would try, she would scream in apparent terror.

I could go on at this point about what I've learned since then, why I think my daughter's inability to latch on for 5 ½  weeks was due to her traumatic introduction to life, and how so much of our early nursing and mothering experiences emerge out of the kind of birth we had.  But that's not where I'm headed. 

My point, for now, is that nursing isn't always a walk in the park.  It can cause frsustration, pain, resentment, sadness, even grief.  And it's important for both mothers and breastfeeding advocates to acknowledge the darkness lurking within this most sentimentalized of relationships.

But there is another side, too, one that is sometimes even more hidden.  And that is the potential for a joy so deep it can take your breath away.  A power so profound it can change your life.

So much of what we hear about breastfeeding is discussed within the context of infant feeding.  Breastmilk vs. formula.  The "benefits" of breastfeeding.  Now I'm the last person to dismiss the ever-growing list of nutritional, immunological, and developmental reasons to avoid formula.  But lost in these somewhat narrowly constructed messages is the heart and soul of nursing:  the relationship, the intimacy, the pleasure of watching your child play peek-a-book at your breast.

More than that, nursing is powerful stuff.  It is awesome – in the true sense of the word -  to be able to produce food from your body, to nourish another living creature without having to rely on anyone or anything else.  So it should come as little surprise to discover that many women, particularly those who had to overcome some pretty significant hurdles, talk about the impact breastfeeding has on their self-esteem and self-confidence.  A mother of four, for example, previously a rower, runner and martial arts practitioner, says that it was breastfeeding that was the most empowering experience of her adult life.  “It has given me faith in the strength and capability of my body and I discovered how strong and capable I truly am,” she says.   

If you’re still in a post-partum haze, if you’re losing sleep, not simply for all the normal reasons, but because you weren’t prepared for engorgement, sore nipples, having to teach your baby to suck effectively while you express your milk with a breast pump, or whatever obstacle that you find in your path  - think twice before you give up.  There often is a light at the end of the tunnel and it’s not always the uncoming train.

Find a good lactation consultant with the letters of IBCLC after her name (Internationally Board Certified Lactation Consultant.)  Contact La Leche League, a fabulous resource, not simply for expert advice, but to meet other moms who have been there, done that, and can support you through whatever challenges you’re facing.  Find a support group on-line.   Most importantly, whatever you ultimately chose to do, make sure you’ll be able to look back at your experience with confidence, not regret. 

I think it was the Peace Corp who coined the phrase, “the toughest job you’ll ever love.”  A million nursing mothers might say the same thing.

Sidebar:  One Mom’s Journey

Here’s a story from a woman in Missouri who writes about the difficulties she faced during her daughter’s first few months, what helped her, and the payoff she faced later.   

It Wasn’t Always So Wonderful

One night, when my daughter was a little over a year-old, I lay in bed trying to think of my favorite nursing moments.  These were my top ten:

1.  The first time.  Ella latched on right after birth, screwed her little eyes shut and went at it for 25 minutes!  What a great hello!

2.  The first time she smiled at me with my breast in her mouth.

3.  When she played peek-a-boo at me with my own shirt.

4.  When she would crawl into my lap and point at my breasts and I would ask her, “Would you like to nurse?”  She would nod and grin and flap her arms.

5.  When she would fall asleep while nursing, fall off the boob and milk would dribble out of her mouth.

6.  When she would get “milk-drunk,” that satisfied, wobbly, can’t quite focus, full-of-milk-and-lovin’-it thing.

7.  When she would offer me my own breast with this look of, “Really, it’s good.  Try it!”

8.  When she would get possessive of my breasts.  She did not like it when my husband would kiss me while she was nursing.

9.  The way she would spit milk if I tickled her while she was nursing.

10.  And my number one wonderful nursing moment was when she would lean back, grin, and then plant a tiny, delicate little kiss right on the end of my nipple - complete with little smacky, kissy noises!

Having Ella is the most wonderful thing we ever did, but nursing her wasn’t always so great.  She was colicky for the first 4 ½ months.  She had to be held constantly but she would not accept dad at all - sometimes she would just look at him and start to cry.  Nursing was really her only comfort.  We nursed a ton.  At that point I was on autopilot - just hold the baby, nurse the baby, talk to the baby, do whatever it takes to make the baby stop crying, make her feel better and give me a moment of peace.  There were literally days when all I did was sit on the couch in my nightgown and nurse, have my husband bring me something to eat, and get up to go to the bathroom.

When Ella was three months old I went to my first La Leche League meeting.  It helped to vent my frustrations and learn that it was normal for her to want to nurse a lot.  And that’s where I found the Dr. Sears books.  I’d never heard of them before.  I read, “Your Fussy Baby” and learned that she wasn’t the world’s crankiest baby and I wasn’t  the world’s least intuitive mother.  I learned that Ella was a “high need” baby:  slow to adapt, very clingy to one person, frightened easily by loud noises.  If I would sneeze while nursing, for example, she would go ballistic.  We had a well-meaning, lovely neighbor come to the door one day and slam it shut behind it him, and she was hysterical for twenty minutes. 

Reading the Sears’ book was the turning point for me because I felt like I was the worst mother in the world.   It meant there was something about this that was beyond my control.  And it helped my husband, too, to realize that she was not rejecting him.  She needed to make a connection with one person at a time. 

Things began to get easier as Ella started to sit up, crawl and walk - all of which she did rather early.   (In fact, I think part of Ella’s fussiness was that she wanted to get stuff done and her body wouldn’t let her.)   She would amuse herself a little, was happier, and nursing became less of a chore and more of a pleasure.  I wasn’t nursing her constantly and she began to come to me for “cuddle nurses,” not just “hysteria nurses.”  Ella is still nursing, now, at 2 years, 4 months, and I wouldn’t change anything.  And I keep adding more favorite moments to the list that I made a year ago.

Note:  This article also appears on RealSavvyMom.com.