The First Weight Check. A Formula Ultimatum. A New Pediatrician.
Brian and I were at the first pediatrician appointment with our first baby, Lena. If you've had babies already, you know that first appointment is the big weight check. I put her on the scale and held my breath.
The ounces fell short.
We were told that if she didn't gain back her birthweight by the end of the week, we would "have to switch to formula."
I felt like I'd gotten punched in the gut.
It was a sick feeling. I wasn't giving my baby what she needed. How could that be the case, when I was her mother? This was the most ancient, basic human thing. It should come naturally, right?
Ha.
It definitely came naturally by the time I was on my third baby. I remember being in the hospital bed and the lactation consultant peeking in and then leaving me to it, saying, "You should stay and help everyone else!" But that first time? No way.
Come to think of it now, why do we expect we will be good at something the first time we're doing it when it comes to breastfeeding? We don't hold that expectation for any other skill. Maybe we don't see breastfeeding as a skill for some reason. But it's not like going to the bathroom. (Weird comparison, I know, I just don't know what else to compare it to.) There are specific ways to breastfeeding to make it work. There are a lot of technicalities that you really do need to learn for it to work properly.
I didn't really realize that at the time.
The odd thing was, our pediatrician was the nicest guy. He listened a lot and nodded along. He had this aura of gentleness that made us just want to spill every experience we'd had with Lena. But he just didn't know a lot about breastfeeding, and neither did I. I remember saying I'd been eating three eggs in the morning instead of two. I was getting the extra calories - why wasn't she?
He explained formula was "like a protein shake for babies." I remember thinking, damn, if that's the case, should they really be having that as their sole food source? But I was so upset with myself, I could barely speak, let alone get into a discussion about formula versus breastmilk.
He offered to have me talk to a lactation consultant. But it was presented as an option. I felt like, oh, there must be something wrong with me. Wow, she can't do this, she needs to go talk to a lactation consultant. Now, three babies later, I would say, sweet, thank you!! But then it felt like, I don't know, similar to the way I've seen parents of my students react when I was teaching and we told them their kid might have a learning disability. There's this wall that comes up, this gut instint like, oh, you're saying there's something wrong with what I did. Which is so far from the truth.
The ounces fell short.
We were told that if she didn't gain back her birthweight by the end of the week, we would "have to switch to formula."
I felt like I'd gotten punched in the gut.
It was a sick feeling. I wasn't giving my baby what she needed. How could that be the case, when I was her mother? This was the most ancient, basic human thing. It should come naturally, right?
Ha.
It definitely came naturally by the time I was on my third baby. I remember being in the hospital bed and the lactation consultant peeking in and then leaving me to it, saying, "You should stay and help everyone else!" But that first time? No way.
Come to think of it now, why do we expect we will be good at something the first time we're doing it when it comes to breastfeeding? We don't hold that expectation for any other skill. Maybe we don't see breastfeeding as a skill for some reason. But it's not like going to the bathroom. (Weird comparison, I know, I just don't know what else to compare it to.) There are specific ways to breastfeeding to make it work. There are a lot of technicalities that you really do need to learn for it to work properly.
I didn't really realize that at the time.
The odd thing was, our pediatrician was the nicest guy. He listened a lot and nodded along. He had this aura of gentleness that made us just want to spill every experience we'd had with Lena. But he just didn't know a lot about breastfeeding, and neither did I. I remember saying I'd been eating three eggs in the morning instead of two. I was getting the extra calories - why wasn't she?
He explained formula was "like a protein shake for babies." I remember thinking, damn, if that's the case, should they really be having that as their sole food source? But I was so upset with myself, I could barely speak, let alone get into a discussion about formula versus breastmilk.
He offered to have me talk to a lactation consultant. But it was presented as an option. I felt like, oh, there must be something wrong with me. Wow, she can't do this, she needs to go talk to a lactation consultant. Now, three babies later, I would say, sweet, thank you!! But then it felt like, I don't know, similar to the way I've seen parents of my students react when I was teaching and we told them their kid might have a learning disability. There's this wall that comes up, this gut instint like, oh, you're saying there's something wrong with what I did. Which is so far from the truth.
