Hearing that the doctor has diagnosed me with PPD wasnt at all surprising to me..i sort of knew i was going into one right after coming home from St Lukes. There are a number of things i find myself constantly stressed out about..having disrupted sleep pattern throughout the day and night, fearing that my in laws will take care of my son in a way i disagree with, and my consistently low milk supply. Breastfeeding is a lot harder than i initially imagined, and even though i fully understand why there are so many advocates for it i still find myself struggling with the idea of giving it up.
Trying to breastfeed a 10-day NICU baby consumed more energy than i thought. firstly, he would have an IV either on his head, his hand, or foot, it was scary trying to position him with those tubes all over his body. also because the nurses there routinely fed him bottles, he didnt take to my nipples very well (a.k.a poor latch) and almost every breastfeeding session ended with him struggling to free himself from my breasts, leaving my nipples sore and cracked and myself feeling like a failure. Because i was anxious for him to be fed rather than learn proper latching, i supplemented heavily with FM. to the point where i felt it was 80% FM and 20% BM. i thought to myself that i will immediately start proper breastfeeding once he gets discharged from the NICU, and that there was no need to worry about feeding him the bottle, nor feel too stressed out about the many unsuccessful breastfeeding attempts. The lactation consultants have also affirmed that the more i try at breastfeeding, the more milk my body will produce, and there's absolutely nothing i need to worry about, as long as i keep doing it. what they meant was round the clock breastfeeding or pumping every 3 hours interval, or 8 - 10 times of either in a 24-hr setting. as much as i wanted to do anything for my son, this still sounded like a commitment too big for me to take. ignoring the fact that i was still hurting badly from the many stitches below (making me unable to sit properly on any chair), i was still feeling very weak from labor, had hardly caught any sleep from labor to the transfer to St Lukes, and my right wrist has barely recovered from a sprain i suffered months ago. having to pump/breastfeed every 3 hours would mean i will further deprive my body of the rest it needed to completely recover from the trauma, and make me more miserable than i already felt. i know the perks of breastfeeding, but the question was, do i want it at the expense of my wellbeing and my ability to function like a mother? it was a question i kept debating on and on in my mind..
i'm already very fortunate to not have to suffer terrible engorgement or mastitis from the poor latch and irregular pumping..
i appreciated the lactation consultants' help, but i really wish they didnt make breastfeeding sound like a given, and that every woman should strive to do it, regardless of the stress it puts on mothers. it made me feel very much like a failure just because i'm not able to do it proficiently, and i realised, on hindsight, that this translated to a lot of depressed feelings inside of me. i consistently doubted my abilities as a mother, and feel extremely upset at myself for not being able to breastfeed like other women. it also depresses me to know that i could be shortchanging my son because of my failure to nurse him. And despite all the emotional stress breastfeeding put me through, i put up with it (only to suffer the consequences later) and persevered..all the while being focused on giving the best to my son, and firmly believing that the more i try to breastfeed/pump, my supply IS going to kick in.
When we got discharged from St Lukes, i pumped every 4 hourly (and only once in the middle of the night) with the free breastpump we got from St Lukes. my supply remained stagnant and sometimes decreased for the next few days. i waited out in hopes that my body is slowly getting the signal that it needs to produce more milk..i also blamed it on the poor breastpump we got...my husband was also very supportive and immediately found me a pre-owned Medela Pump In Style Advanced to buy the next day. with the Medela pump, my supply remained stagnant at 2 ounces per pumping session for the following week. true, i wasnt diligent enough to clock 8 pumping sessions in 24 hours, but i had around 4 - 6. it was the most i could offer in a constantly sleep-deprived mode. i dont think i had it in me to pump more than that..but sometime later, my supply suddenly dipped to 1 ounce per pumping session and i freaked out..i started asking around for help to boost my milk supply and started to latch him despite the tremendous amount of pain i felt in my right wrist. Karen was so kind to deliver me home-baked cookies and order for me a pack of herbal tea from Amazon..i continued to feast on the lactation cookies, forced myself to drink the horrible-tasting herbal tea, and continued latching for 2 more days. my supply still wasnt increasing...it was truly stressful to have tried so hard and everything, and yet fail to see any results. if the lactation consultants were right, my lack of supply would mean i havent tried hard enough, even though i felt like i've given my all with what i could. i started blaming myself for not being able to try even harder, and felt like a terrible mother who cant even produce milk for her own son.
while already feeling like a failure from the failure to breastfeed, i also had to put up with imposing "recommendations" from my in laws regarding how to take care of Luke and how i'm not doing things right, the guilt of being a failed mother became even more real for me. i know they meant well and want the best for their grandson, but dont we need to take care of the mother too? esp if the mother is the main caregiver for the long-term? i was trying to find encouragements and affirmations at a time where i feel like a major disappointment and failure, and telling me what to do or what not to do because i'm getting it wrong, is very detrimental to my mental health. there are so many times i want to just scream to them to drive the point home the point that "i am the mother, i know best!" i needed so much support from my own family to affirm me that i'm a good mother, but i received none from my in laws. whom i happen to spend all of my time with.
the day came when i finally decided to give up BM because i realised i needed to recover from PPD to be a good wife, good mother, and good daughter in law, and the stress from breastfeeding will be the last thing i need. it was very difficult to come to that decision because i was still very much led to believe that breast is best, and FM is an inferior substitute. what eventually spurred me to make that decision was an excellently-written article i came across (here) and knowing that the gynae i "worship" (Dr Parkinson) has all 6 of his kids on FM. after doing a bit more research about BM VS FM, i realised the victory isn't so clear-cut. regardless of the stigma FM receives in today's society, it was actually invented in the 19th century to end infant mortality because it promises more benefits to babies, helping them to live longer. with all the advances in medical technology today, FM is ever more able to deliver even more results than FM in the 19th century can. many people my generation grew up on FM (and some even on condensed milk!!!) and we all work out fine..my brother is a genius at what he does, and he was on FM 25 years ago, too. FM CANNOT be that damaging to my son... last but not least, i've grown to understand that breastfeeding does not define a mother -- a mother's role is too complex to be defined by just one aspect.
since i've embraced the idea of FM and be less harsh on myself, i found that i no longer feel as hopeless as before. and ironically, because of my less stressed-out state, my milk supply actually increased!!! i feel more engorgement than before and have to pump to drain it out...it's funny how when i dont want it anymore, it comes back to me haha..
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