I promise this will be my last post about breastfeeding. To start we had Olivia's two week checkup and all is well. She has gained a pound from her weight at birth and has grown half an inch. This makes her almost in the 50th percentile in everything, which I guess is a good thing, you know if you like being average... ;) We really like our pediatrician, Dr. Kan, she is young and spirited and we find that it is really easy to talk to her, which is always a bonus. We discussed her breathing, which the Dr was a little concerned about and mentioned that we need to bone up on our CPR, just in case and watch her. And there is nothing to be concerned about with regards to the bone on her chest, totally normal and the dimple on her back, it happens. So yeah for little Olivia, she is thriving.
And then there was the appointment with the lactation consultation. It was great, the exact opposite of what I thought it would be like. I pictured them making me feel bad that we had been using bottles and a pacifier and for even just having to be there in the first place. But that was not the case. They asked me some questions about what we had been doing and what brought me there and then sat me in a chair and put Olivia on my breast. It was the most simple and lovely thing and it made my day to see her latch on so quickly and look up at me so contently. We connected and in that moment I knew why I was holding onto breastfeeding. That look in her eyes that only we get to share, I wanted that and I was not ready to let that go. So I left the clinic with tons of new info and a feeling of self worth and confidence about my new relationship with breastfeeding.
I got home and told Paul all about it and how excited I was to have gone and how great the lady was and blah blah blah. I was beaming! Then Olivia and I took our afternoon nap together and at about 5pm she awoke ready to take another stab at breastfeeding. So I got all set up and proceeded to do what the lactation consultant had shown me at the clinic. And it did not work. Not only did it not work, it was awful. Olivia was clawing at me and fussing, something she had not done at the clinic, not once and I started to panic. I kept trying to get her to latch the way she had earlier and it was not happening. And then I started to cry. Here was the moment that I had been waiting for and it was killing me. I was in my own personal hell and all I wished for was that lady from the clinic to show up and help me. It made me so upset that I had even bothered to see anyone about this, since I had already made the concession to pump and bottle feed.
And so now I find myself giving Olivia a bottle, because my nipples are so sore again and I know that I can't take the rejection again. So the new plan is to pump and try to breastfeed at least twice a day and see what happens. I am not giving up totally but I do feel like I need to do what is right for us, and that is all I can do.
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