I think 2020 has been one of the hardest years of my life. While I'm sure that's been the case for a lot of people, mine has been a little different. To those who haven't read my last blog post from July 2020, this isn't going to make much sense. I would highly recommend reading it before reading this one. In all honesty, I'm not writing this for you. I'm writing it for me as a part of my therapy. More Moms need to know that it's okay to not be okay, and that sometimes they need a little extra help after giving birth. I denied that for so long, so hopefully my story will help other Moms out there to take care of themselves and not put themselves last.
~~~A continuation of July and so forth~~~
As Lewis was recovering from his mouth operation, he needed me more than ever. Since his mouth was sore, he couldn't nurse as long he wanted to when he was hungry. His mouth hurt, which meant he wanted to nurse for comfort. But even that was painful, so the tedious cycle continued round and round. I kid you not when I say he wanted to nurse every twenty minutes when he was awake. I was trapped and I felt like I couldn't do anything. I couldn't get a break because Lewis refused a bottle for an entire week after his operation. We were up at Snowbird for that week and I couldn't do anything fun because he was nursing all the time. As I continued to time how long he nursed, it was still apparent that if he didn't hit a certain number, he would cry and go to bed hungry.
The months passed, and Lewis fought to learn how to nurse properly. I gave up a few times and thought to myself that this would be a labor of love and that I would never enjoy breastfeeding him. While I saw many other Moms who had their babies on a schedule to nurse every 2-3 hours, Lewis was still snacking as he nursed. He continued to nurse every 20-30 minutes and I felt like I was at his beck and call every minute of the day. My depression came back as bad as it was back around March since there was nothing to blame as his ties were released.
Finally, I had enough and I was on the verge of yet another mental breakdown the first Thursday in October. I even posted on my Breastfeeding Support Group that I wanted to quit and that I was done. I was advised the typical, "Don't quit breastfeeding on a bad day." I rolled my eyes because I've heard it time and time again, but I thought it must make some sense as I might regret it later on. I decided to see another lactation consultant to see if she could help me not hate nursing so much. There weren't any available appointments until Monday, so I had to wait it out until after that appointment to see if I wanted to quit.
I was so glad as I went, as I needed someone to tell me that I'm allowed to not give into Lewis wanting to nurse every 20 minutes. I remember I told her that I wanted my life back. She told me to try every two hours. If he protests before the two hour mark to give him a full bottle instead. That way I can be confident that he's not hungry. It was a hard adjustment at first, but Lewis and I were happier with this new arrangement. I was always under the impression that I was going to have to exclusively pump, or exclusively breastfeed, I never thought about doing both. It seemed to be a win-win situation! She gave me other advice on how to get Lewis to stop snacking and it worked. Feeding Lewis in the dark right when he woke up was the solution that I needed. The lactation consultant also gave me the confidence that Lewis would be able to nurse correctly soon, as it takes older babies to adjust from their oral ties release. I started to feel more hopeful about my life and I didn't feel so depressed.
Lewis has his nine month appointment in September. I prepared for it by writing a letter to my pediatrician. I wanted to inform her how her misdiagnosis severely affected me. I adjusted the last blog post into a letter to give her the details of what I went through those last nine months. I begged her not to diagnose whether or not babies had lip or tongue ties and provided a list of pediatric dentists and IBCLCs that had the training to properly do so. I was so anxious to give her this letter at his appointment and I didn't know what to expect.
Unfortunately, the worst possible scenario happened. As I gave her the letter, I watched her eyes dart back and forth down the page. I knew she wasn't reading it word for word and glanced at the second page. She replied, "So, Lewis had a lip tie?" "Yes." "Did he have a tongue tie?" "Yes" "When did he get them fixed?" (I thought to myself, if you had read the letter, you would know that answer.) "July 17th." She started to monologue about how there's not a lot of research on oral ties, and it depends on the baby on whether ties should be revised or not. She also claimed that if she notices a tie that they clip them right there in the office when they're a newborn. (I also thought, well then why didn't we get his oral ties fixed when he was ten days old?!) As she was making all of these excuses, I was dumbfounded. I had no idea what to say to her because this specific scenario was not one of the scenarios I played out in my head. I was waiting for her to say, "I'm sorry for all of the pain that you experienced," or "I'm sorry that I didn't catch his lip and tongue tie." Any variation of an apology would have been worth so much to me. But I didn't receive one. She thanked us twice for the list of recommended providers, but that was it.
After the appointment, I just spiraled and hit rock bottom. I felt so discouraged that she didn't care that I trusted her with her diagnosis and that it was wrong. I was also mad at myself, for not trusting my intuition and that so much could have been different. I would have never have needed to go to a chiropractor, physical therapy, and all of these experiences that brought me so much grief. I thought, "Does my experience not matter to her? Does my life not matter? All the additional 1000 hours of nursing Lewis not matter? Does my pain and grief not matter?" I felt so insignificant and useless. I wish I had spoken up and told her as we left, "Will you please read the entire letter when you get the chance?" But I didn't. I regretted it and thought I should speak up for myself and for Lewis. I felt sick to my stomach.
That same day as I was recounting my experience to one of my good friends, I received some wise words from her:
"Our stories are not meant for everyone. Hearing them is a privilege, and we should always ask ourselves this before we share: Who has earned the right to hear my story?" - Brene Brown
This made me feel better about my regret in not asking her to read the entire letter. I've tried my hardest to show her to not repeat her mistakes so there aren't any future moms out there that have to go through what I did... But I can't force someone to change. I can offer my advice and they can either accept it or not. Since then, we have changed pediatricians and I will never go back to her ever again.
In November, I was still feeling really depressed, but in denial that I needed professional help. On my birthday I decided to recommit to praying and reading scriptures every single day. The only music I listened to was Christian Rock to remind me of our Savior. It helped a little bit, but it didn't do as much as I hoped. I did it every single day for over two months, but I was still really unhappy and depressed.
As Lewis got closer to one year, the more and more I missed eating dairy. As I had a plethora of negative emotions towards breastfeeding, I wanted to be done with it. I started to wean Lewis off one nursing session each week to the point where I was only nursing him twice a day.
At the beginning of January, I had another breakdown and I was finally convinced I needed professional help after Spencer gave me a blessing that same day. I saw one my PA's from my 6 week postpartum check-up mid-Janaury and we talked about how I was doing. I told her all about how I experienced thrush, Lewis' reflux, dairy allergy, and the misdiagnosis of his oral ties. She told me even experiencing one of those things would have warranted postpartum depression, but the fact that I had all of them was extreme. She was very grateful that I was there and suggested an antidepressant so I could combat my postpartum depression.
I've been on Zoloft for 2.5 weeks now, and I'm feeling A LOT better. Once the medication started to kick in, I thought more and more about breastfeeding. "Did I truly want to wean Lewis completely? Lewis has been drinking Ripple milk, but it's really expensive. Do I want to add two additional servings of Ripple milk to his everyday diet...?" "Lewis has also been sad that he's not nursing as often, do I really want to stop altogether...?" "I heard that breastmilk can help fight COVID really well if we do happen to get it. What if we get COVID and I'm no longer nursing...?"
All of these thoughts and more weighed heavily on my mind. I also realized that I nursed Lewis for an entire year because I felt that I 'had' to and I had nothing but a negative experience. But now that I'm only nursing him twice a day, I don't actually hate it. In fact, I feel like stopping right now would be even sadder because it would be a new phase of Lewis' life. I would really feel like Lewis isn't a baby anymore who doesn't need me in that way anymore. I decided to stop weaning Lewis because I WANT TO breastfeed past one year. I'll continue to have those happy bonding moments with him. In a way, continuing nursing is a way to help me heal from this last year. Hopefully, as this continues, I'll be able to have more positive experiences to outweigh the bad. I don't know when I'll stop, but I'll cross that bridge when Lewis and I get to it.
To all the Moms out there who may feel the way that I do, or have gone through similar experiences: If you even need someone to talk to, I'm here. Even if we haven't talked in ten years, I will be more than happy to listen to you vent or even give advice (with the one year of experience that I have). It takes a village to raise a child, but it also takes a good support group to help Moms succeed in doing just that.
