On Not Getting What You Want

We are 3 weeks into parenting so far and wow has it been an exciting, emotional, exhausting ride thus far. Today's posts is one that should be filed under "real talk." I'm going to preface this post by saying that we are so incredibly grateful to have a healthy, happy baby boy. I have friends who have experienced infertility and gone to great lengths, emotional and financial, to have a child, and I have friends who have children with serious health problems. We are so very grateful that we do not fall into either of those camps. We got pregnant easily and we have a very healthy boy and I'm vowing to never take those blessings for granted.

But dang, so much about being pregnant and having a child has not gone that way I thought it would or wanted it to. A friend once said that her provider told her that women either struggle with getting pregnant, have a difficult pregnancy, have a difficult labor, or struggle or are unable to breastfeed. The provider said that pretty much no one has all 4 of those things come easily to them. I kept that in mind during the pregnancy.

Clearly, getting pregnant was incredibly easy for us as we got pregnant the first month that we tried. Then as my pregnancy progressed, it became clear that I was not going to have an easy pregnancy. It started with the ongoing, painful RA flares. Then I found out I had gestational diabetes due to being on steroids to keep the pain from my RA flares somewhat manageable. Then I got a terrible blood clot that resulted in a hospitalization and twice-a-day blood thinner injections.

As I approached our induction I thought, "OK, this pregnancy has been hard so maybe I will have a good labor and delivery experience." Except that didn't happen as Paul would not descend in the birth canal so I ended up needing a C-section which was something I was *really* hoping to avoid.

But after the C-section I thought - "Ok, maybe breast feeding is going to come fairly easily to us." I felt like I'd been through so much that I was due for something to come easily for a change.

Oh how wrong I was. As I've mentioned in my last 2 Paul updates, breast feeding has been a struggle. Paul struggled to latch in the hospital so we ended up having to use a nipple shield and even with that, he has been such a sleepy eater that I have to strip him down to a diaper and poke and prod him while breast feeding him to keep him awake and sucking. Then we had a string of doctor appointments, weigh ins and lactation consultant weigh ins which showed that Paul was not gaining enough weight. As of our last appointment on Tuesday with the lactation consultant, he's still below birth weight. We did a weighted feed (they weigh him before he eats and then weigh him after he eats on each side). It wasn't surprising to learn that he had eaten less than an ounce because even with all the poking and prodding and tickling, he was barely sucking and swallowing. Not every feed goes like that - sometimes he will suck and swallow pretty consistently. But a lot of the time he doesn't. So he expends calories trying to eat and I feel like crying (and sometimes do) because something that is supposed to be innate and natural is so very difficult for us. And yes, genetics are at play with his lack of weight gain because Phil and I were slow to gain weight and Phil has a hard time keeping weight on (must be rough, huh?). But he should be gaining more weight than he has and every pediatrician weigh in and lactation consultant appointment left me feeling like I was failing.

On Tuesday at our lactation consultant appointment, the LC reviewed our options and then said, "how are you feeling, mom?" I think she sensed how much I was stressing out over his weight and how defeated I was feeling. She said that this is such a brief and fleeting phase of life and that she wants me to enjoy feeding my baby and that she senses that all the struggles we were having with breast feeding were keeping me from really enjoying the time with Paul - or at least the time he spent eating, which is a lot since he eats 8 times a day. Because for the last week or so, I've been breast feeding him and giving him a bottle of pumped milk and then I was pumping after 5-6 feeds which was just exhausting. So we decided that I would doing more pumping and bottle feeding and only put him to the breast first thing in the morning when I am most full and at the end of the day when Phil is around to help. She was very encouraging and positive and said that as he gets stronger, he may get better at sucking and will eat more efficiently. But until then, we need to get some calories in him and get him growing like he should be.

I've cried a lot since Tuesday because this is just not what I envisioned. I've had friends who have struggled with breast feeding and I've supported them and said "fed is best," which I wholeheartedly agree with. But it's different when you have to tell yourself that fed is best, even when it doesn't look like what you had envisioned. I felt like I had paid my dues with a hard pregnancy and difficult delivery/C-section. And I stupidly thought maybe I was 'owed' a good breast feeding experience.

Except that's not how life works. You don't always get what you deserve. You can do all the right things and still experience disappointment over how things play out. And these feelings aren't only limited to the experience of getting pregnant and raising a child. I remember feeling frustrated over how long it took to meet my life partner. There were times when I was so hyper-focused on my love life (or the lack thereof). But then I met Phil and I realized that he was worth the wait and that we both needed to have our time apart to do the things we were meant to do (career development, MBA, CFA, traveling, etc.). Would it have been nice to have met him sooner? Absolutely. But I can look back and see that it all worked out the way it was meant to.

And now I'm having that experience of wanting something else so badly (the ability to breast feed our son) and wondering if it will ever play out the way that I envisioned. But I also know that this is a period of our life where I'm so hyper-focused on how he is getting fed and that in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter. No one has ever really asked me if I was breastfed. I was, but it's so not relevant once you are out of the infant phase (yes, there are wonderful benefits to breast feeding but sometimes it just doesn't work). And at the end of the day, Paul is still getting my breast milk (plus some formula because right now I'm not producing enough to satiate him right now).

I know that with time this will feel like less of a huge disappointment and a failing on my part. Logically I know that it's not at all a failure on my part - but post partum hormones/emotions really mess with your mind. I keep reminding myself that he's healthy and happy and that I've done everything possible to try to make breast feeding work and that if I need to exclusively pump to feed him for awhile, indefinitely, or until I need to stop due to the stress and exhaustion of exclusively pumping, then that it OK. But it's hard to get that message from my head to my heart.