[Disclaimer: I've been wanting to write this for a few months now... but, well, I have a baby, so I haven't had time to really get my thoughts "on paper". Hence, you're getting the "I've come to terms with it" version rather than the impassioned "Strikes really suck" version.]
On Tuesday, December 28th, Joshua went on strike. A nursing strike.
I almost would have preferred that he had a picket sign and started chanting “Hell No, I won’t go!” over the heart-wrenching rejection (crying, arching/turning/pushing away) that he gave me. No, not rejecting *me*… he rejected my breasts.
Let me back up a bit… At his 6:00 p.m. nursing session that Tuesday, Joshua bit me, and I, surprised and in pain, yelped and sternly (but not meanly or yelling-ly) told him not to bite me. Well, apparently my boy has a sensitive soul and that made him cry and he has since refused to nurse. I tried to spend lots of extra time with him, offered nursing opportunities without pressuring him (i.e. withdrawing the offer after he turned/arched/pushed me away a time or two), and generally tried to find ways to rebuild the trust. He didn’t seem distraught about me per se, just about nursing. I tried using calming essential oils, taking a warm bath together (which was also his first bath in a full-sized bathtub, so that became much more interesting than cuddling with mommy), spending evenings and weekends essentially topless (something James thought was a great idea and should be continued)… I tried giving him the bottle in the nursing position and then attempted to swap nipples. We had a few days where he got no milk from me (thinking that perhaps if he wanted milk from me it had to be “straight from the tap”). It just didn’t fly. A few times while playing, he would sort of “taste” me momentarily, but wouldn’t suck. He’s not much of a cuddler, so it wasn’t easy to try to transition from snuggling to nursing. I thought about bringing him to bed with me, but I didn’t know if that would be more disruptive since he’s been in his crib since early on! After keeping this up for almost a month, I just didn’t have the energy to keep offering and be so harshly rebuffed.
This was such a painful thing for me to go through. I was in tears nearly daily. I couldn’t bear the thought that nursing my son had come to an end. I thought that I would be the one to wean him, or that at least it would be a gradual, mutual thing sometime well after his first birthday. I thought that it was just a strike and that I could convince him to “come back.” Apparently, he has more tenacity than I, in this instance, and he actually was “giving notice” that his days at the breast were done.
Even though Joshua was unwilling to nurse, that didn’t mean his time getting breast milk was finished. I still had my goal of a year, after all. So, I started pumping full-time. I hoped that it was a temporary thing… but as the days dragged on, I began to realize that this was my new reality. I have a friend whose son was unable to latch well, and she spent the entire 12 months pumping his milk. I achieved new appreciation for exactly how much committment and sacrifice was required to do that – and I was only looking at having to do it for another 3 months to reach a year.
In the first week of January (about two weeks into the “strike”), I jotted down some notes about why I was so sad about the potential end to nursing and the advent of exclusive pumping. Some of it was purely selfish. It is just so much more convenient to nurse. They say that you should pump after every bottle you give your baby so your body is stimulated with the same frequency as if the baby were nursing. That is so overwhelming – the time it takes, the hassle of “hooking up” to the machine, and the cleanup just make life so much more difficult. Not to mention the added complexity of having to take enough milk with us whenever we leave the house. Now we had to plan ahead and guess at how much he would need based on how long we were going to be out. Not only did we have to bring milk and keep it cool, but then how does one heat up the bottle when it’s time to give it to the kid? Talk about inconvenient! It’s so much easier to just feed him from the source – it’s always available and at the right temperature. No cleanup or special equipment required!
Then, given my existing issues with supply (see The Milk Maid Returneth), I had worries about what this change to exclusive pumping would do to my supply since the pump is inferior to a baby, therefore you get less, therefore your body thinks it needs to produce less, therefore you get even less, and thus the cycle continues. Plus, now there is a constant worry and pressure to produce as much as Joshua consumes every day. It’s measured out in ounces. There is so much more pressure than just nursing and knowing that he’ll stop when he’s full, and he’ll “ask” for more when he gets hungry again.
Beyond the practical items of convenience and sustainable supply, I mourned the loss of intimacy. Joshua is not much of a cuddler, so without nursing, I simply don’t have much snuggle time with him throughout the day. It takes far less time to give a bottle than to nurse, so that’s not much of a consolation prize. And he just doesn’t sit still enough to really get the snuggles I crave. Plus, there is something special about the time when nursing… it’s different from holding him when he’s drowsy (the only other time he’s particularly cuddly).
Nursing, more so than pumping, really makes me feel like I am sustaining Joshua and nourishing him. Pumping feels like so much more work than nursing… and I guess it is more work due to the time, massaging of the breast (to get more milk out) and clean up. The payoff when pumping is 100% intellectual and 0% emotional. Pumping is so… cold… mechanical… lifeless… boring… it’s hard to find any enjoyment about the process.
Plus, nursing is something that only I can do. It was something special that Joshua and I shared. And now that’s gone forever. Not to mention the fact that I no longer have nursing as a way to comfort Joshua (like after a shot at the doctor) or to coax him to sleep for naps.
It has been really hard for me to come to terms with the cessation of my nursing relationship with my son. But I finally got there. I’ve spent the last three months pumping Joshua’s nourishment, maintaining my supply (thank you domeperidone!), and still being close to my little boy. I’ve had to rearrange my schedule to accommodate the time requirements, and I have also been much more intentional about carving out extra time to spend with Joshua so we are still able to connect and get in bonding time through play and other interactions.
And now, I’ve reached my year goal. I have another round of domeperidone that I’m going to use to slowly taper off the medication and cut back on the number of times a day that I pump. I figure I will be pumping for at least another three months (due in part to the pharmacy sending me 2 months’ worth of the drug instead of 1 month’s worth – this stuff costs so much I’m not willing to throw away any of the medication. Plus, it’s better for Joshua to keep getting breast milk as long as I can hold up to the pumping regimen). As my supply diminishes (as I step down to 20, then 10, then 0 mg of the medication and as I step down to 4, then 3, then maybe even only 2 times a day of pumping) we will introduce organic whole cow’s milk to make up the slack.
It will be interesting to bring this era of me-based nutrition to a close. It has been worth it, though. For my personal sense of achievement, but also because I think it has been key in helping my little boy get through his first year of life without a single sniffle. (Being cared for at home also played a big part in keeping him healthy.)
My advice? If you find yourself in my situation – by all means, try to help your little one return to nursing. But if it doesn’t work out, keep reminding yourself that it’s not a rejection of you. And, if it’s important enough to you, it is possible to pump exclusively. It’s not fun, and it can be frustrating as all get-out (having a partner support you in this endeavor and say “go sweetie!” with reminders of why you’re doing all this work helps a heck of a lot!), but it is do-able and, for me, was worth it.
