Chrissy Tiegen said it best "Normalize Formula" (My Breast Feeding Journey)

 Breast Feeding.

Most of us have heard the phrase "Breast is Best".  And we all know it is true.  But what about adding "Formula is Good too!" to that statement?

Why is it that people find it necessary to Mom-Shame any mom who is feeding their child a bottle instead of their breast? 

I know, I'm not the first to write about this.  It's been said time and time again.  But I'm going to share my breast feeding journey; mainly because I just need an outlet to let my feelings out sometimes, and the topic came up again today in my feed.

Chrissy Tiegen tweeted on Sunday this...

"ok I'm gonna say something and you all are definitely gonna make it a thing but here goes: normalize formula."

Once again, she isn't the first to say it.  She is a celebrity with a huge platform of followers that can spread the word and positivity on the subject.  Plus she is a mom.  A WOMAN.  Someone who can actually talk from experience on the subject.

When I was pregnant with Alex, I promised myself I wasn't going to let it get to me if I wasn't able to breast feed him.  I knew it would be a possibility.  I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and unfortunately a side effect is not being able to produce breast milk after birth.  I knew it could happen.  

Obviously, I was going to try.  "Breast is best" does ring true.  What is better to feed your child, than the the super custom stuff your body makes to give your baby all the nutrition he needs? 

But sometimes, it's just not possible.

And there is NOTHING wrong with that!

I had a rather rough birth.  Long story short (I'll write the longer version at a later date) I was in labor for over 52 hours, in the hospital for almost four days prior to actually giving birth, I was pumped heavily with fluids, and I almost died while giving birth.  

So on top of all the stress giving birth does to a woman's body, I had those things to deal with on top of it.  

Stress can stunt breast milk production.  

Sometimes you can get lucky and it has a slow start and then picks up after a few days; but other times it doesn't.  

I was in the other times category.

I tried so hard.  Oh my God, did I try!  

Immediately, when I got to hold my son in my arms for the first time, had my breast ready for him to latch onto.  

And he did!  He latched immediately!  And really well! 

I was so excited!  I thought to myself, "Oh this is going to work!"

I had done lots of research, taken a breast feeding class online, gotten my breast pump through insurance, nipple pads, nursing cover, etc.  

I knew that your body, when producing properly, made the perfect amount for your little person.  It started off in small amounts, because baby only drinks a few milliliters at first, and after a few days it should turn into an ounce, and then ultimately started making a full production of ounces per day.  And it would grow with your baby's feeding needs.  

That's the picture perfect story to breast feeding.  

But let's be honest.  Whoever gets the picture perfect of anything?

Breast feeding is hard.  

Baby doesn't always want to latch.  Nipples get sore, cracked, and sometimes even bleed.  Nipples become deformed.  Boobs sag.  Your boobs can hurt when they're too full.  You sometimes leak through to your shirt, which is especially fun when you're out in public.  And then you constantly have this thing (precious thing of course 😉) clawing at your breasts, trying to get to that liquid gold.  At all hours of the day.  

It doesn't matter if you're tired.  When baby wants to eat, you better be ready.  

And as crazy as it sounds, I was ready for it.

But at the same time, I also told myself from the very beginning, "Mandy, it's okay if you can't do it.  There is nothing wrong with you, and nothing wrong with using formula.  Do not let anyone make you feel guilty."

But I did.

I did let people make me feel guilty.  

And even though those people were far fewer than the ones who told me it was okay, they were the ones who got to me.  They were able to have that power over me.  I allowed them to make me feel ashamed of myself, for not being able to provide that "liquid gold" for my son.  Like it was my fault I wasn't producing.

My son's original pediatrician (who was very helpful!) told me there were ways to try to get production rolling.  This was about three weeks postpartum, and I had been trying nonstop.  My son had stopped latching, because he had gotten used to the bottle.  I was pumping any free moment I got (which wasn't many).  I would cry during the pumping, because I felt so guilty that I wasn't with my son in those moments.  It was taking away my precious moments I should have been with him.  His pediatrician told me about power-pumping.  It's when you pump every 2 hours, for 15-20 minutes each time, for 24 hours straight.  Sometimes 48 hours!

His doctor didn't expect me to do it.  She said it was brutal.  It was hard.  

But I did it.  I went into those 24 hours feeling hopeful, and with some confidence that this wasn't over...that I could do this.  I would start producing enough for my son to get the nutrition that breast milk would offer him!  

I knew it would start out slow, but what I didn't expect was to producing less in those 24 hours, then what I would produce in one 15 minute pumping session two weeks earlier.  

That picture above shows you just how much I produced in those 24 hours of hell.  

I was even more sleep deprived. I got up at night every 2 hours, even when my baby was asleep, and pumped.  I cried as the hours ticked by, and I was still only producing drops. Literally drops in 20 minute sessions.  DROPS.  I felt defeated.  I felt lonely.  I felt depressed.  Why wasn't my body doing what it was supposed to?  My pregnancy was picture perfect (up until the last couple days).  My doctor said so!  So why wasn't my body doing what it was supposed to do now?? 

I did the thing.  The thing that almost no one does!  12 pumping sessions in 24 hours!  20 minutes each time.  

But it didn't work.  

Weeks and weeks of taking expensive supplements that the lactation consultant at the hospital told me would help to bring on my milk production.  Popping pills after pills.  

And in the end, none of it worked.

It took me a while to come to terms with it.  Even after the power pumping session, I still tried for a little while longer.  Until one day my husband held me in his arms, as I was crying after yet another pumping session, of producing nothing but drops, and told me, "Love, you tried.  You did everything you could.  I'm so proud of you and amazed at your hard work.  And even if it was just a little, our son still got to have that little bit from his mama." 

I promised myself I wouldn't let it get to me. 

But I did.  

I felt like a failure to my child.  Like I was letting him down.  

And without my husband by my side, I would have continued feeling that way.  

Formula is not the enemy.  

And while not every formula works for every baby, as a parent, you have options.  And with the help from our pediatrician we were able to find the right formula that worked for our little guy, to get him the nutrition he needed, and feeling comfortable while eating it.  

In the end that is what matters.  Making sure your baby is happy, healthy, and growing the way he or she should be growing.  💕

The Romance Bookie :)