On that boob thing

One of the greatest challenges for me so far in this wild motherhood ride, hands down, is breastfeeding. And I'm very sad to report that things have not been going well.

After my initial struggles learning how to breastfeed, I thought I was getting the hang of it. Then Eva went on her first nursing strike. I say, first, because well, she did it again. Yup, after I had coaxed her back by banning all bottle use for two weeks and offering her the boob like, 78 times a day, she decided to get confused all over again. It happened a couple of days after my confinement nanny left. I tried to woo her back to the boob again, but to no avail. She would arch her back, cry and be pretty pissed off when I offered her the breast. And I would sob in frustration and sadness. It was a trying time.

I knew that maybe, just maybe, if I called in sick (again) at work for another two weeks, skip class and every other meeting to stay home so I could breastfeed exclusively, she might come back. But I couldn't, of course. I had to fulfill my responsibilities as a student.

And after several heated arguments with C, after several more times trying, I gave in- I fed her breastmilk in a bottle. And its been that way ever since.

And I absolutely hate it. Some reasons why:

1. I hate pumping. Pumping is mind-numbingly boring and mechanical. I hoist myself to the sofa 5-7 times a day, attach the tubes to the bottles and sit there trying to relax, hoping that the milk will flow. Most times, it does. I am lucky enough that I can still produce sufficient milk to keep up with Eva's needs, but it is a getting to be a big pain. I try to watch TV, surf the net while I'm at it, but honestly I just want to get it over and done with.

2. Wastage. Heated breastmilk that has been previously refrigerated can only last 1 hour in room temperature. When Eva does not want to drink whatever we offer in the bottle, it goes down the drain. I have had to dump 4-5 ounces (120-150ml) of precious milk in a day. Any milk-producing mother will know how painful that can feel.

3. Extra work. To pump and bottle-feed translates into a lot of washing and sterilizing. Over and over again. When Eva wakes at 2am for a feed, I run to the fridge to get the milk, heat the milk, feed her. After she's asleep, I crawl onto the sofa to pump for about 20 minutes. When I'm done, I wash and sterilize everything, ready for the next feed. By then I'm starving, so I drink Milo and eat a piece of bread. Total time awake: 60-90 minutes.

But above all of these reasons- I really miss breastfeeding. Sure, I did not always enjoy it, but it was a special time of bonding, just me and her. My heart aches when I think of it.

Sometimes I think: Did I try hard enough? Could I have prevented her nursing strikes? Did I make breastfeeding such an unpleasant experience? Maybe I should have waited longer to introduce the bottle and the pacifier?

The questions go on, and I can continue to berate myself. But what motherhood has taught me so far is this: No matter what I do, some things are truly beyond my control and eludes explanation. I have to accept the change and move on.

Easier said than done!

Daily milk supply, pumped and divided into feeds, ready to be warmed up