Uncensored

Part 15

Nothing about my son's birth went as planned. Not that I thought you could plan a birth, and I did not do much planning at all, but everything that I might have wanted NOT to happen did happen. I was late in my pregnancy and anxious about having to get induced in a couple of days, when on Friday morning I felt some wetness between my legs. The rest of my water broke just when I made it to the bathroom and looking at the green mess I immediately knew that there was Meconium in my uterus, which happens when baby poops in utero. I wasn't worried though- I called my husband, called the hospital and knew that now that my water had broken, although I wasn't really contracting, I'd have to go into the hospital and this baby would come out within roughly 24 hrs.

At the hospital we were informed that because of the meconium, which was still coming out of me with the amniotic fluid almost every time I moved, the NICU team would be present at birth, because there was the risk that the baby would inhale some of it. I had very mild contractions at that point, but after 5 hours of waiting, I was put on Pitocin to help things along. At that point, I was basically being induced, which I had not wanted, only worse: with a 'normal' induction, one's cervix is ripened first before contractions are being induced. On the other hand, I was administered Pitocin for the rest of the birth, but my cervix was slow to catch up and only dilated very slowly. On top of that, every so often the baby's heart rate would drop so that the Pitocin was stopped, which also caused the contractions to subside, drawing out the entire process. At some point I was finally ready for the epidural because I knew I had to be able to hold still while the needle was being inserted into the spine, which became increasingly more difficult. Soon after I got the epidural, the baby's heart rate dropped again so the anesthesiologist reduced the amount I received. An epidural reduced one's blood pressure, so if mine was higher, because I was in more pain and receiving less medication, the baby's heartrate would be higher, too. Because of the dropping heartrate I had to mostly sit up (instead of lay down) which caused all the medicine to go into my legs and vagina while my uterus was not numb at all. Soon, I thought I couldn't take the pain anymore and I begged for the epidural to be increased again, but the anesthesiologist refused for the rest of the night so not to "jeopardize" the baby. My midwife said that it had been a while since the last drop in baby's heartrate and she really fought for me, saying that every other doctor would have eventually given me some more medication, even calling both of the anesthesiologist's bosses, but to no avail. At some point, when I was absolutely desperate, my midwife said that we would try to push to get the baby out, because neither of us was "happy." And so we did- I pushed for less than 45 min und at 7:16AM (almost exactly 24 hours after my water had broken) my son Maximilian was born. The NICU team took him immediately and vacuumed out his mouth and stomach before returning him to me.

Like many baby's, Maximilian suffered from some jaundice, bad enough though for him to have to have phototherapy. The little goggles supposed to protect his eyes from the UV light did not fit his small head and we spent every minute watching him and keeping the goggles on his eyes. He was miserable, and we couldn't hold him, so we surrendered to using a pacifier to soothe him. When we were released after 3 days, Max had lost 7% of his weight. I was handed a breast pump in the hospital and I dissolved into tears when only a few drops came out. I was told that it could take a couple more days for my breast milk to come in but to keep pumping at home to feed Max as extra, since he was so sleepy (mostly from the jaundice) at the breast). At our first follow up doctor's appointment Max was almost re-admitted because his jaundice had gotten worse again. We got to take him home though and after another day or two his labs were finally showing a decline in bilirubin. That's when the pediatrician became concerned with Max's weight gain, or lack thereof, saying that he would not be back at his birth weight by the time he would be 2 weeks old. She suggested supplementing with formula and I wanted to see a lactation consultant (LC). The same afternoon we gave Max his first bottle which he devoured. When we saw the LC the next day she weighed him before and after nursing, so we realized that he was getting hardly anything out of my breasts. The LC did a thorough assessment and concluded that Max most likely had a lip and tongue tie, limiting his mobility and thus effectiveness on the breast, while I had low milk supply. From there on I pumped all day long to feed the breast milk I had (which was not enough and had to be supplemented by formula) with a bottle. This entire time was incredibly stressful, both physically as an exhausted and sleep deprived new parent, and emotionally as I questioned myself and my son and became obsessed with measuring the amounts of milk I pumped and fed and how much Max weighed (everything became about numbers). I could not have made it through that time without my Mom, who watched Max when I pumped, who listened and supported me and told me that I was doing everything I could, who encouraged me to keep going. Now that she is on another continent again, I miss her more than I could have ever imagined but she is still my biggest supporter.

We were not able to get an appointment with an ENT to evaluate Max's lip and tongue tie until a couple weeks later, at which point his lip tie was released but the ENT denied the existence of a tongue tie. I had done a lot of reading and research at that point and my LC strongly suggested to get a second opinion. So we paid out of pocket to see a dentist who evaluated Max's tongue and did a revision. After the procedure one must do lip and tongue stretches 5 times daily for 5 weeks so that the tissue in the mouth does not grow back together. Max hated it of course, and screamed at the top of his lungs almost every time.

That's when I reached my emotional low. The tongue and lip tie revision was supposed to improve Max's nursing abilities at least to the point so that I could stop pumping. I had no illusions that with my low supply I would ever be able to exclusively breastfeed, but I wanted to breastfeed (without my supply dropping) and then supplement, at least without having to pump. All of it together was stressful and very time-consuming. Most of the time I couldn't leave the house for more than 2 hours because I had to return home to pump and as soon as I was gone for long periods I stressed out over the drop in supply. But Max's sucking ability at the breast seemed to only improve marginally. He swallowed a little more, but when I used my baby scale to estimate how much milk he was actually getting, he was still only getting around 20ml. When I pumped right after that, I pumped around 40ml of breast milk. 40ml of milk that had been there and that he had not removed from the breast. I don't know if he had not figured out yet how to nurse more effectively or if bottle-feeding had simply made him lazy, but I couldn't rely on him to maintain my milk supply when he did not even remove half of the available milk after 30-40 minutes of breastfeeding, after which I still had to give him a bottle. I was crying the entire time while I watched him, hating myself for thinking he was "failing" at the breast, hating myself for having low supply, insufficient glandular tissue (the diagnosis I was left, after all my blood work came back normal) and simply not being enough for him.

I had always known breastfeeding might be difficult, that there would be challenges. But I never thought that I would not make enough milk to feed my child. Or that my son would physically not be able to breastfeed effectively. I had always wanted this yet I started thinking that it may not ever work for us- and it broke my heart.