The bittersweet decision to cease breastfeeding

I always knew I wanted to breastfeed when I had children and my stubborn desire to do so was the only way I was successful. Breastfeeding with my son had a very difficult start, as I've mentioned in a previous post, and I could easily have switched to formula if it hadn't been for my excessive determination. My success at breastfeeding has been such a positive in what has been a difficult year, heightened when a health visitor (who has the role of breastfeeding specialist),  told her trainees just how impressed she was with me, that it was an extraordinary feat for me to be exclusively breastfeeding after the complications I experienced during the birth.
So the fact that I have breastfed my son for over a year, is something I am immensely proud of.

I am one of the least judgemental people, I do not intend on telling anyone what they should or should not do in any area of their own lives.  I believe every mother can make their own decisions in whether or not they choose to breastfeed, it is a very personal choice that should suit each individual mother. My initial and ongoing experience of breastfeeding was, at times, incredibly stressful and I could go as far as to say a contribution to my postnatal depression, it was definitely a factor involved in my sleepless nights and it was the reason I could not go out socially in the evenings for a very long time.

So if I start from the beginning. My first attempt at nursing my son was when he was literally minutes old. The health professionals had delivered my baby, stitched me up and dealt with the first massive haemorrhage I had. After all that drama they left the room and let us have our first experience as a family of 3 and I decided to take an inexperienced shot at nursing. I had not a clue what I was doing and just placed my son near my boob and hoped he would figure it out. To my amazement he did! I had no way of knowing whether he was getting anything but he seemed to be doing the right action. It was during this feed though that I felt a pressure, not dissimilar to the pressure I had experienced during labour. It was another haemorrhage, enough to take me over the edge, a significant loss of blood that I would require blood transfusions and to drop my blood pressure so low I was on flat bed rest for over 24 hours having my observations taken every 15 minutes.

In hospital I got absolutely no guidance with breastfeeding,  I had no idea if my son was getting the good stuff or not. I was not told in hospital that my experience would be affecting my milk supply. Being on the high dependency unit their focus was me not my newborn. They were even encouraging me to allow them to top him up with formula so I could get some much needed rest. I refused.

A few days at home and I was getting upset because my son was asking to feed ALL the time day and night, he was very frustrated and I was feeling very sore. I very nearly caved, holding a bottle of prepared formula, but I did not give it to him. The Midwives at my 10 day check felt his feeding was excessive and suggested some expert advice. We  went to the breastfeeding clinic and spent 1 hour being hysterical. They were doing their best to help, trying to teach me how to get him to latch properly, explaining he was not feeding because he was not taking long enough sucks but lots of little ones.  On reflection this is probably because I wasn't producing enough for him (which is actually very unusual and something mothers believe is happening when it is not). However shortly after that my milk supply did come in and nursing began to work well.

I gained so much confidence, I picked subtle tops and nursed in public regularly. I only ever had one negative experience in public and even then it was only a look and not a nasty comment. My son, after an initial drop in weight, has gained weight really well. He started on the 75th centile, dropped to the 50th and then gradually worked his way up to the 91st centile!! The health visitors are happy with him.
My son took to breastfeeding so well that he refused milk in any other way. For months and months we tried to get him to take expressed milk and even formula from almost every brand of bottle in existence. We never really succeeded. I missed out on many social events including a friends wedding for this reason. I never got any me time.

Night time and a serious sleep deprivation, regular night feeds, my partner not being able to help with this, and comfort feeding (it took me a fair while to realise the difference). Breastfeeding was one of several factors that led to a "bad sleeper".

Then there was the agony of mastitis. A blocked milk duct. My first experience of this was over the Christmas period. Red, hot, solid, tearfully painful boob, high temperatures and feeling rough, just what I wanted at Christmas time when the GP surgeries are closed. Nursing on that boob (which is encouraged) was excruciating and eventually I had to get an out of hours appointment on a bank holiday, down at the hospital for antibiotics. Fortunately I never got it like that again,  I recognised the signs early, and on 2 future occasions self managed the problem.

When I was diagnosed with PND, I was prescribed antidepressants. This, I was told, had a risk of side effects to my son due to being breastfed. My GP encouraged me to stop breastfeeding. I refused to stop and so I refused to take them initially due to the risks to my little boy. Once my son was feeding less frequently I started on a very small dose but continued to refuse to up my dose as prescribed. My GP clearly felt I needed to up my dose for my recovery but breastfeeding meant that morally I couldn't,  I was putting my son first.

Much of what I have written seems negative and not great for selling the benefits of breastfeeding, plus I have already suggested that my choice contributed to my post natal depression so why did I continue feeding for over a year? Because I LOVED breastfeeding! Despite all the significant hurdles we had to get over, I would not go back and change my decision.  Stopping breastfeeding would have been more of a contributory factor in my PND than continuing. During a year that I was feeling like a failing mother, my success at breastfeeding my son was something I was most proud of. Many mothers with PND report a lack of bond with their baby, this was far from how I felt, breastfeeding gave us the most amazing bond, I loved our closeness,  I loved knowing I was giving him a great start in life in terms of nutrition, immunity and all the other many benefits of nursing. My health visitor confirmed my suspicions and reluctance to stop by citing research that showed depression worsens in those women who cease nursing before they feel ready.
Before I had my son I decided I wanted to aim to breastfeed for 6 months, 1 year later and I now feel ready to switch my son onto cows milk. I knew with my son that this would be challenging based on our bottle experience but we have slowly been introducing cows milk since 10 months under the guidance of my health visitor to ease the transition once I chose to make it. Today is the 4th day that I have not breastfed. It is a bittersweet feeling. I already miss it, especially our bedtime routine and actually having boobs. But I was ready, my decision has not affected my mood, I was able to attend my best friends 30th birthday night out and now I can up my antidepressant medication to the dosage my GP has recommended without any worries that they will affect my son. I can take the next step in my recovery.

Don't take simple things for granted

Just for fun I thought I would compile a list (with contributions from the ither yummy munmies), of all the things in life that, had I known, I would have made to most of or not taken for granted before I had my son. Take note all those of you who plan to have children.

1. Sleep!!!!!! You will never know what tiredness is until you are chronically sleep deprived. You may be lucky and have a good sleeper but not everyone is that fortunate. 
2. Peeing in peace
3. Hot meals. Being able to eat your dinner as soon as it is served, not having to feed anyone else first,  being able to eat all the food on "YOUR" plate and eating in peace
4. Casual cooking. I spend an hour each day trying to multitask cooking and entertaining. He suddenly wants more attention than normal. I'm organising dinner with him in my arms, or attached to my leg.  I am taking him to the other side of them room, setting off a toy and running back across the room knowing I have just enough time to safely check the hot contents of the oven before delicate hands appear again.
5. A hot cup of tea. A HOT cup of tea no longer exists. Either you don't have time to drink it whilst it's hot or you have your baby sat on you/nursing meaning you're unable to drink it for fear of them grabbing it.
6. Sitting down for 5 minutes
7. "Popping" to the shop. There is no popping, you can't leave your little one in the car, you have to park up, get the buggy out, bundle up you're bubba just to spend 2 minutes buying some milk and then folding up the buggy, getting their coat off and getting  them strapped in again. Or "nipping" into town doesn't work either,  allow an additional hour for mission in to the nearest baby change for an explosive nappy change and then to a breastfeeding room (if you're lucky enough to have one of those locally) or traipsing around looking for a subtle seat in a cafe but not before you gone and purchased an unneeded beverage because your baby is screaming for a feed even though you gave them a feed just before you left to avoid exactly this.
8. On that note, not having to organise everything around feeds, naps and nappy changes.
9. Being able to walk straight into a shop carefree, without having to battle with opening doors to fit the the buggy through and constantly bumping into rails and dragging merchandise off the shelves with said buggy (although the plus side is using the buggy to carry shopping on).
10. Having to make sure your petrol pump is a 'pay at pump' because you don't feel comfortable leaving your baby in the car whilst you pay but lugging them in to pay is an effort.
11. Social skills, such as keeping quietly to yourself on public transport or in a restaurant.  Babies like to stare at everyone meaning you have to talk to that stranger they are fixated with can sometimes be awkward.
12. Wearing clean clothes. That being anything not covered in sick, snot, food, calpol.
13. Buying and wearing figure flattering clothes, coz man oh man does that jelly belly hang around.
14. Wearing any clothes you want without having to think "can I breastfeed in it".
15. Wearing your hair down. Wearing your hair down is an invitation to your baby to pull chunks of it out with their sticky hand or suck on your hair. Saying that wearing your hair up doesn't completely solve the problem, they'll still find those little bits of hair by your neck to tug and man does that hurt.
16. Wearing your favourite necklace, for the same reasons as above. 
17. Wearing your glasses. Babies are fascinated by beards and glasses. Babies think it's hilarious to grab them off your face at any time or situation, rendering you blind.
18. Enjoying a relaxing bath or shower
19. Being able to snuggle up to your other half and watch a movie. 
20. Space in your house! Babies are small but they come with a ton of stuff. You take your life in your own hands just crossing the living room, with regular cursing when you stand with your bare feet on the most jaged of toys because your floor is totally covered in them. 
21. Making your way through the toy jungle with at best a human lap dog and at worst a sobbing toddler attached to your leg.
22. Being able to put your electricals down where ever you want without risking coming back to a broken screen or your phone being set to Chinese.
23. Being able to own a small, fuel efficient car
24. Just having space in your car boot even if you already own a bigger car.
25. Being able to just nip away for the night without having to pack the whole house up to take with you.
26. Long journeys taking the minimum amount of time to drive because you don't have to schedule breaks for every 2 hours plus the unplanned poo stop.
27. Just owning nice, undestroyed stuff
28. Clean carpets, not covered in milk puke

My partners additions from a man's perspective was:

1. Being able to safely leave electricals and remote controls anywhere.
2. Untidy wiring. Having to sort out all wires so they're hidden from sight because they are so tempting for a bubba.
3. Getting sympathy, because now that I've had a baby he will "never know what true pain is".

How has it been a year?!

Last Wednesday night at 9.30pm I was sat in bed by myself, smiling and crying, remembering the events of exactly a year ago to the minute, the birth of my gorgeous son. How do I have a one year old?! Where has that time gone?

I have spent the last month preparing for his birthday, arranging his party,  wrapping presents, baking a suitably smashable cake and organising a trip for his actual birthday. I was actually quite excited about his birthday and my partner voiced that he was too. However the feeling was bittersweet. I no longer had a baby, he is a toddler now and the day before his birthday was my very first day back at work. My son's first birthday was exciting but also filled me with dread and a tinge of sadness.

Despite a cold, my son had a fantastic party, with lots of important people in his life.  I managed to enjoy the party after the initial stress of setting up,  cooking etc. He was a very fortunate little boy, so many amazing presents from generous friends and family.
His actual birthday was a complete success too. We opened all his amazing gifts whilst all relaxing in our pj's and dressing gowns, then we went to a local interactive farm we hadn't visited before, where my son can stroke the animals which he really enjoyed, had a lovely lunch (we ordered a child's meal for the first time) and made the most of the soft play area. My son had taken his first steps 2 days earlier so we utilised the soft landing space. Then once home we did a cake smash and filled up on pizza. It was a perfect family day together.

My partner went out that evening, as organised, once my son was fast asleep. This gave me alone time to reflect on the amazing year that he has supported me to have with my wonderful little boy and to think back on that traumatic birth. It would have been nice to have jointly reflected but it was also nice to be honest in my own head about what I went through and the last year. And although it has not been an easy year, there has definitely been more good than bad, or at least that's how I will remember it and I can honestly say I would do it all again for my favourite little person. Unconditional love.

The dreaded return to work

Returning to work after maternity leave is a tough time for most parents. It has just been you and your baby for many months and then you have to start being even more organised and you have to leave your child with strangers for hours at a time.

Numerous people told me that I will probably start to feel better once I return to work, that going back to work aided their recovery from PND and that they felt some of their identity reappear from being back in their work environment. I certainly felt this was the case when I completed my 'keeping in touch days' But,  although I am aware it is early days, I am currently feeling worse; more volatile, tense and anxious, since my first day back.

My son attended nursery 4 times before the first "proper" day. 2 very short sessions and 2, what were supposed to be, full days.
I really thought he would enjoy nursery but on his first full day I had to collect him early due to hysteria from refusal to nap ALL day. He went from 5.45am until finally giving in to sleep at 4.30pm. Seeing his totally exhausted face was just heart breaking and meant for a bad evening and awful night. Just when we had cracked sleeping, he took a big step backwards. That was 2 weeks ago, since that day he has slept badly, not one full night and many broken nights. And he has been very hard work to get down for a nap. This has led to worsening sleep deprivation creeping in on my part.
Then the following Tuesday  I drop him off early, on my first day back at work, and he clings to me, really clings.  I say goodbye whilst staff prise him off me. For me this was excruciating, I wanted nothing more than to take him back, give him a hug and take him home to spend the day playing.

To my relief he did well at nursery that first full day 8-5. He eventually napped, albeit after much drama and tears. I on the other hand had, had a very long and boring day at work and could not wait to collect my little boy.

We returned on Friday for day 2 of work. We saw a repeat of the traumatic clinging and crying on my departure but he quickly settled apparently. My partner and I the day before, had had the horrendous experience of our sons 12 month vaccinations (he was a trooper and cried not one tear despite 4 injections). Anyway this had led to a fever over night. His temperature was back at normal by the morning so I handed that over to the nursery and went off to work. Just 2 hours later I receive a telephone call, informing me that his temperature was up at 38.5 and I needed to drive over to give him some calpol. 'Sorry I have to give him calpol?!' We asked about this policy on our visit and we're informed that the staff could give calpol. So my first booked in patient since my return, had to be rearranged just so I could drive to the nursery to give him calpol. I had decided I would stay there to check his temperature was settling,  only to be asked to leave him. So I headed back to work, more worried about my son than I was before. Half an hour later I get another call from the nursery,  his temperature hasn't lowered so I needed to collect him. Day 2 at work and just 2.5 hours in I am taking annual leave and reorganising 2 patients. Nothing about that day reassured me that my decision to return to work at this stage, was a good one. I am more anxious than before about being apart from my boy, I foresee future, stressful, childcare issues and I have again begun doubting my readiness to work.

After a weekend of reflection I continue to feel the same. In fact, I am worse, as my son sounds like he may have a chest infection and all I can think is, if he is put on antibiotics he probably won't be allowed to go to nursery again. Additionally my Great  Nan is quite unwell and my morbid brain is anticipating a funeral coming up. How am I going to justify this further time off?!

I have had my worst day in a while. An evening of melt downs. I need to take a deep breath and try to destress.  I have a well timed talking therapy session tomorrow, hopefully that will allow me some head space.