Breastfeeding isn’t easy. It isn’t always a natural gift. It isn’t something everyone is interested in doing.
But for those of us who are, we’re often left with the feeling of sitting alone in a sinking boat in the middle of the ocean.
The support just isn’t there. The resources just aren’t there. Doctors aren’t always helpful. Nurses aren’t always helpful. You may only have a handful of friends with experience (and each experience is different. Likewise for your family members.
How to feed babies is somewhat of a mystery sometimes. How to care for a body that feeds babies might be even more mysterious.
So how does one prepare?
For me, I didn’t. I didn’t have a single nursing bra/tank/shirt when I gave birth. I had hope, and that’s it. You can’t really blame me, though, considering I was only six months pregnant.
But what would I have done to prepare? I had never heard a book recommendation that would help with breastfeeding. I’ve had the title for “What To Expect When You’re Expecting” drilled into my head for years, but I honestly can’t think of one commonly known title of a breastfeeding book. How would I know what’s good and what’s junk?
And the paraphernalia? Forget it. I picked up somewhere that the Target nursing tanks were nice, so I got those. I had no idea, though, that pump parts come in different sizes (same as nipple shields), I didn’t know about nipple care and prevention of yeast growth (yeast? on my boobs? what?), and I certainly had no clue I could get blood blisters from breastfeeding.
Wow. I’ll stop there before I frighten somebody.
My point is this: The commonly talked about resources suck when it comes to breastfeeding education.
I wish someone had pointed me to a list of must-have items to help me on my breastfeeding journey.
I need your help, readers. My first two months were spent with a team of lactation consultants at my beck and call (one perk of our NICU stay), so I’ve only had three months on my own. I learned just today that gentian violet, used to treat thrush/candida infections (which are apparently quite common) is a pain in the ass to track down. Had I know that, I would have bought some to have on hand just in case.
So what are your suggestions to help future breastfeeding mothers be prepared? Do you have a favorite book you learned from? Odd tips like keeping a vinegar-water solution nearby when pumping/nursing to wash off with? Do you know of any specialty items that are hard to find but awesome to have? Do you have a favorite clothing item that helped ease your efforts? Or did you fall in love with a giant water bottle that helped you stay well hydrated?
Help me out, readers, and I’ll put together a list to help future breastfeeding mothers who want to be prepared. Let’s try to kill that alone feeling for a few people, at least.
It’s a question we’re frequently asked: How did you choose their names?
Sorry to disappoint, but the story isn’t terribly exciting.
Eleanor
Her name was the only one that survived the months-long daydream-discussions about names for our future offspring and is the reason “PB&J” was never meant to be a teaser for their official names. We both loved it and thought it sounded perfect paired with my middle name. Thus, we planned to name our first girl Eleanor.
Tobias
Our first boy was to have Rob’s middle name. That was decided ages ago. What to go with that name, though? Convinced we were having two boys, we had the second boy’s full name picked out – the first being one that we just couldn’t pair with the middle name Boy 1 would share with Rob. Just couldn’t. And so the epic discussion began.
Rob vetoed every name I suggested, sometimes with a “BLECH!” and sometimes with a “meh.”
My suggestion for Toby was first, “Toby,” but then I decided that was more of a nickname. You know, in case he wants to be President of the United States some day.
“Toby” got a “BLECH!” from Rob, who said the only Tobys he ever “knew” were Toby Keith (he hates country music) and Toby Flenderson (Michael Scott hates Toby Flenderson).
Tobey Maguire, I pointed out, is pretty rad.
Rob rolled his eyes.
“BLECH!” turned to “meh” after a bit, and while I’d occasionally ask if he had any other suggestions, Rob could never come up with anything he truly liked.
There, in labor and delivery triage while we waited to be transferred to my room in L&D, I looked at Rob during a break from crying and asked, “Any ideas for Baby B’s name, or are you finally OK with Tobias?”
I don’t know if Rob settled that morning or if perfection clicked into place, but Tobias’s name fits him perfectly, and we couldn’t imagine any other that would be better.
Callista
Callista, Baby C in utero, made it her Thing to deliver surprises while in utero.
Whether it was her stealthy ninja moves (move 1, move 2) or her big gender surprise – she kept us on our toes.
Yes, we thought for sure that A (Eleanor) was a girl (correct!), B (Toby) was a boy (correct!) and C (Callista) was a second boy (WRONG!). Imagine my shock when the ultrasound tech pointed out the unmistakable girl parts on Baby C.
Thus began the hunt for another girl name, something we, for 15 weeks, never once thought about.
Like it does with many other conundrums, the Internet saved me. Nymbler, to be more exact. The site lets you search for a name based on its similarity (origin, meaning, sound) to names you enter into the search fields.
I entered “Eleanor” and “Tobias,” (I loved it even though Rob didn’t), and there, among the names it returned, was Callista. It caught my eye, and I suggested it to Rob, who fell in love with it.
I wasn’t sold on her name for a few weeks, but I couldn’t think of anything better, and Rob wouldn’t hear anything else anyhow.
Middle names
We’re being all smug about those, not telling you, Internet Dweller. It’s a matter of privacy, one of the nuggets we keep for our IRL lives.
I can tell you that, while their first names are ones we chose just for them, their middle names are family names.
Eleanor shares my middle name, which was also my birth mom’s middle name.
Tobias shares Rob’s middle name, which he also shares with his father. It was also the first name of Rob’s grandfather.
Callista’s middle name is the same as my grandmother’s middle (or was it her second first name?) name.
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We didn’t plan to have triplety initials, but I can’t lie when I say it’s pretty sweet that their initials (in the order of their in-utero position) spell out the abbreviation for et cetera. I’m playing with the idea of getting a tattoo in honor of my ETC babes someday, when I can figure out what and where it should go.
Eleanor, aka Peanut, aka Fussbucket – I think you’re starting to visualize our girl E – was second in line out of the womb, the one the medical reports say got the party started that crazy morning.
She is a hybrid in the looks department. She has Rob’s round face and brown eyes. Her long eyelashes look like those women spend good money to fake – they’re thick and dark and perfectly curl up on the ends. She is fair like me, but her blonde hair has a reddish hue. She’s easily mistaken for her brother or sister at different angles, but looks uniquely Eleanor just as frequently.
Eleanor’s been the smallest of our bunch, though not by much, since birth. She has a totally different body from her brother and sister. She’s petite and wiry and feels like a string bean next to her solid brother and sister. Everything about her just looks smaller somehow – strange, since her numbers are never far off (the other day, she weighed in 1 lb. 1 oz. lighter than Toby, and her head circumference measured only 1 cm smaller than Callista’s at their last well-child checkup). Optical illusion or not, she is the peanut of the group, from her tiny hands down to her dainty feet.
She may be the smallest, but she lives up to the “small but mighty” cliche. She’s amazingly strong and nimble, preferring to “stand” whenever she feels something somewhat solid under her feet. This includes the changing pad, when her “standing” turns into near back bends as she scoots her way backward. If she can plant her feet and apply pressure, she will. She was the first to roll from her tummy to back, and I suspect she’ll be the first to take off running. She isn’t a big fan of sitting still.
She’s hilarious. I can’t put my finger on what it is about her – maybe it’s the fact that she’ll look at you, her brow furrowed, talking, cooing and ow-OOOOOHing and sporting the most serious face she can muster, pause and then break into a smile that looks like a perfect cartoon grin. It’s almost like she’s telling us jokes and cracking up at her own punch line.
Eleanor is passionate. She cries with her whole broken heart, screams with her mouth wide open, talks with gusto and has a smile that could light even the darkest cave. She eats with passion, often accompanying her suck/swallow with a quiet “aye-yuh, aye-yuh,” as she clenches her fists tightly tucked near her chin. She falls asleep with passion, too, turning her head from side to side and sucking with great fury at her pacifier or the first two fingers on her hands. She hasn’t decided which is best, and there is no knowing which she’ll prefer at any given time.
She’s going to make one hell of a teenager.
She’s just started to notice her brother and sister and has nothing but smiles and chatter for them. It’s like she’s so relieved to see she isn’t the only baby in the house, that someone else surely understands the trials and tribulations of being tiny, helpless and breathtakingly adorable.
To the mother who gave me life only to leave too soon, to the mother who chose to raise me as her own, to the mother who treats me as more than a daughter-in-law, to the friends whose advice and experience give me guidance and admiration, to the friends who are snuggling newborns and celebrating growing bellies, to the friends who are hoping for successful cycles,
Happy Mother’s Day.
p.s. I won a contest this week for NICU moms. Check out my entry, which includes a letter to current NICU moms.
I’m lumping all the breastfeeding-related questions into one post. All things boob, if you will.
Are you planning on just pumping as long as you can? and How long do you plan on breastfeeding?
I have no plans, no goals. I never did. Those of us with PCOS are warned during our fight to get pregnant that we may struggle with breastmilk supply. Knowing that, my answer to the “Are you planning to breastfeed?” question was, “I hope to.”
I had no idea what my body would do. Would I be one of the lucky PCOSers who fight an oversupply (or welcome it, in my case), or would I be in the second half of the group, the women who fight an undersupply or even milk that never comes in?
I learned quickly that I ended up in the first category.
Pumping, at first, was my one physical connection to my babies. They began receiving breastmilk on their second day of life. It was a TINY amount – just 1 mL every two hours. That is 1/30 of an ounce.
I spent my pumping sessions – eight or more each day – focused entirely on the babies. We bonded then, and I felt empowered by my involvement. I fell in love with the act, a burden on most pumping mothers I talk with, and I’m grateful for my feelings toward the chore.
Providing breastmilk has been incredibly healing for me. I entered motherhood feeling like a failure, like I had let my tiny fighters down by releasing them into this big world on their own before they were ready.
I plan to provide breastmilk for as long as I can. If it gets too hectic, I may need to stop. If my body gives up, I will have to stop. Until then, I’m a milk machine, eating as much and drinking as much water as I can to hold up my end of the production bargain. My body and I have become partners since giving birth, and I’m proud of us.
Also are you nursing any of them directly, or do they always get bottles?
I try to nurse each baby at least once a day. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. I’m trying to be more conscious of taking time for them because it gives us private time with each other and it gives them a chance at the all-you-can-eat buffet, rather than us giving them a certain amount.
On most mornings, Rob and I feed the babies before he leaves for work. He gets their diapers changed while I prepare one bottle. I nurse two at once while he gives a bottle to the third. It’s quiet family time for us each morning, and it works out amazingly well. The baby Rob feeds with a bottle gets the chance to nurse later in the day. Each morning, I rotate who I take and who Rob takes based on who did what, when, and with who the day before.
The daily tandem-feeding practice is helping me get better at it, but I still struggle when one needs to burp mid-feeding or if one gets a bit overzealous and has a coughing/choking spell. I’m hoping that, with more practice and growth, we’ll all five get better at tandem feeds.
I discovered in the NICU that nursing all three babies one at a time for each feeding session gets to be an assembly-line process, and it is just too rushed and impersonal. I tried it, and the experience wasn’t good. Two at once and then one by him/herself is much more enjoyable, but I still prefer to do only one or two at once and let the other two or one receive bottles.
I went into this multiples game fully expecting to prop bottles in order to feed three babies, but I’m proud to say that, aside from their first 7 weeks in which they received feedings through a tube (OG then NG), my trio have gotten all of their meals in the loving arms of a person.
Are you having to supplement or do you produce enough for all three?
I have been producing approximately 2 liters of milk each day. For a mother of singletons, that would be far too much. For me, it’s just enough. Or almost just enough. I haven’t run the numbers to a T, but, no, I don’t need to supplement.
You may have seen me mention using formula, and that’s because we fortify the babies’ bottles of breastmilk with preemie formula (Similac NeoSure for Toby and Eleanor, Enfamil EnfaCare for Callista) at a ratio of 1 tsp. of formula per 70 mL of milk. They started on fortified breastmilk to increase the caloric value, and when the neonatologists tried to lower the calories for a week in the NICU, the babies stopped gaining weight. Because of that, and because they have continued to gain at an even, healthy rate, we have kept them on fortified milk. They receive 24 calories per ounce, whereas plain breastmilk is 20 calories per ounce. Plus, the increased calcium and phosphorus are recommended for preemies to promote good bone growth – something term babies get as they grow on the inside for longer.
So, no – no supplementing. I haven’t touched my freezer stash, and I haven’t given them a straight-formula bottle.
How do you find time to pump?
I have an AMAZING family. They all recognize the importance of breastmilk and know I produce best if I can pump without interruptions. Our family – my parents, Rob’s mom and his brother – help me during weekdays with feedings. If the babies stay up for a bit after eating, whoever is helping that day takes over baby duty to let me slip away and pump in another room. If the babies go down for naps shortly after eating, I pump then. If it’s just Rob and I at home, like at night or on the weekends, I pump while he hangs out with the babies.
Basically, I pump after each feeding, as close to the feeding time as possible. I do this to keep my body in sync with the babies’ and to keep my production on the same schedule, which allows me to nurse for any feeding if I want.
If I have to skip a pumping session for whatever reason, I’ll try to make up for it later, either by staying up a bit later and pumping once more before bed or doing two sessions in between feedings.
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Apologies for the choppiness of my answers. Please speak up if I didn’t cover something you’re curious about or if I need to expand on something.
