The Buzz on Bumblebee, Pt. 3

The next few hours were a blur.  I remember chatting with the nurses and the doctor as they cleaned Silas up and the doctor stitched me up ( I had a 4th degree tear).  I remember them giving Silas to me to nurse for the first time.  I remember being taken to our room and eating while Andrew went with Silas and the nurse to go to the nursery and finish getting Silas cleaned up and ready for the night.  But by the time they returned, my pain meds and the antibiotic they'd put me on had kicked in.  I don't remember much of that first night at all.  Andrew was a trooper, stepping in and making sure Silas was taken care of while I recovered.

The next couple days in the hospital were interesting.  I felt pretty useless.  I was on pain medication for the tear I got during labor and because the pain meds made me super nauseous, I was also on nausea meds.  The nausea medicine made me incredibly drowsy.  I was also still very dehydrated.  I felt like I was barely functioning most of the time. 

When I was awake I would hold my baby while he slept.  When he was hungry I tried to nurse.  Oh how we tried. 

My son definitely got a good dose of stubbornness in the genetic mix.  I wish I could say it was all Bancroft...but there's definitely some Layton/Pruitt in there too.  Every time we nursed he would just give up and get MAD.  I mean, Hulk mad.  He'd latch on just fine and start to nurse but before any progress could happen he would let go and begin to cry.  He was inconsolable. 

Each attempt at nursing ended the same.  We'd spend an hour trying to latch on, trying to get some colostrum in his little mouth, Silas wailing.  And Mommy giving up and crying herself or becoming so exhausted that she just couldn't do it any more.  Then Andrew would take him and walk him or rock him until he cried himself out and went to sleep.  I don't know how I would ever have managed without Andrew.

Andrew became the primary care giver while we were there.  I spent most of the time sleeping or in pain.  There were a few moments of alertness.  Usually when we had visitors I was able to perk up a bit and at least say hi and chat for a few minutes.  But most of the time I slept.

I was concerned about my lack of success at nursing but the nurses all encouraged me.  They gave me tips.  They told me it was normal.  No one made me feel like I was doing a bad job. 

Eventually the lactation consultant came by to see me.  We got off on the wrong foot and I chose to ignore any advice she gave me.  In hindsight, I wish I'd gotten over myself and just listened and tried the things she was suggesting.  We might have avoided some of what was to come.

Finally, the day to bring our Bumblebee home had arrived.  It was New Year's Day.  As I waited for Andrew to bring the car around it struck me that we had come full circle. 

On New Year's Day eight years ago Andrew and I began dating.   This day we were bringing home our son.  Eight years ago we hadn't even begun to dream about him.  But God had.  His story began that day as much as it had nine months ago.  It was a cool moment to reflect on.

The next week would be one of the toughest weeks of my life.  I need to pause here and just say again:  I married an AMAZING man.  I am so thankful to be his wife and I am so very blessed by his love, friendship, and support. 

When we were discharged at the hospital, we were told to call the pediatrician and set up an appointment for Silas in two days.  I thought this was odd because I knew his first well baby check up should be at two weeks.  But I chalked it up to the pediatrician just wanting to be thorough and since we hadn't seen him before Silas was born, maybe he wanted to have the "getting to know you" appointment as soon as possible before doing the first well baby appointment.

Oh how I wish I'd paid more attention to the what was going on when the nurses would take Silas to the nursery for weigh ins and such.  I would have been more prepared for why Dr. Ellis wanted to see us so soon.  I would have been more prepared for the battle I was about to fight.

Tuesday night through Friday morning of week 1 were tough.  Silas and I were still having trouble getting into the nursing groove.  This was made doubly hard by the fact that my milk didn't come in until early Friday morning.  Everyone kept telling me this was normal though so I tried not to worry over it too much.

Friday we loaded up and drove up to see Dr. Ellis.  Once we got checked in for our appointment the nurse took Silas' measurements and weighed him. Then Dr. Ellis came in.

I knew something was up from the moment he sat down with us.  His first question was: Are you still having trouble nursing?  I told him yes.  He nodded and took a deep breath. 

Dr. Ellis then explained that the reason he'd had us come in was because Silas' last weigh in before discharge had concerned him.   He thought Silas was losing too much weight and wanted to see him after a couple days at home to see if nursing would go any better. 

I told him that my milk hadn't come in until very early that morning and that I had hoped nursing would start going better now that it had.  I remember feeling apprehensive and anxious as I explained this.  The look on the doctor's face told me there was something else happening that I had missed.

Dr. Ellis told us that it's totally normal for newborns to lose a little weight in their first few days.  This usually amounts to a few ounces or so.  Silas had lost two pounds.  To be exact, he had lost 25% of his body weight.  This was not OK.

My heart sank.  I began to get emotional.  Dr. Ellis tried to comfort me, but what he said next only sent me further into the emotional abyss.  We had to supplement.  We had to get some high calorie formula into Silas over the weekend.  My mind raced ahead...I didn't want to do formula.  I hated that we would have to.  But I knew that supplementing wasn't the end of the world if I could still nurse him.

Then Dr. Ellis said he wanted us to try the bottle.  My first response was, "Absolutely not.  Do I have any other options?  I don't want to use a bottle.  We are breastfeeding."

To his credit, Dr. Ellis did try to work with me on this.  He asked me if I had any ideas and I asked about the tube feeding system.  You put breast milk or formula supplement in a syringe or bag that is attached to a tube which you then tape to your nipple and as baby nurses, you slowly release the supplement.  Dr. Ellis said that he had heard of this but that he didn't have access to this.  He agreed to have his lactation nurse call the lactation consultant at the hospital and ask if they had one and also to consult with them about what they felt would be best for Silas at this point.

Unfortunately the hospital didn't have a tube system either.  The lactation consultant was also concerned with the amount of energy it was taking Silas to nurse.  She suggested that we do whatever was necessary to get some food in him over the weekend and worry about nursing after that.

This would mean a bottle.  I was devastated.  I knew how hard nursing was going to be to get started.  I also knew how much harder it would be once a bottle was prematurely introduced.  I had a big ugly cry right there.

Andrew immediately began to console me.  Dr. Ellis reached out and rubbed my shoulder, apologizing.  He told us he wouldn't force the bottle on us.  It would be my decision.  He understood how hard this was.  His wife had gone through the same thing.  Only her pediatrician didn't give her a choice.  She had come in with a bottle and given it to their son without even so much as warning them.  He would never, ever, do that to a breastfeeding mom.

I was a mess.  I hated that we would have to do a bottle.  Hated it!  Dr. Ellis then asked me if I would feel better talking to the lactation nurse for a little bit.  He wanted me to hear from her why they thought the bottle would be best for now and have her give me some pointers on getting started nursing.  He assured me, we weren't giving up on that.  We just needed to do something else in addition for a little bit.

The lactation nurse was really nice.  She explained to us about Silas using so much energy to nurse that he was burning more calories than he was getting.  We needed to get the weight loss stopped as soon as possible.  She spent time helping try to get him latched on and watched me try to nurse.  She gave me advice on positioning, and encouragement.  Then she asked me what I wanted to do.  She asked me if I wanted her to get a bottle.

The tears started all over again.  I looked at Andrew.  He hugged me.  He told me he wouldn't let me give up on nursing, but maybe we needed to trust that this was what was best for now.  I cried harder.  The lactation nurse patted me on the back and squeezed my hand.  I slowly nodded.  We would do the bottle.

She left and came back with a formula bottle ready to go.  She asked me if I wanted her to get him started.  She knew that it would be hard for me.  She wanted to make it easier.  I told her no, I could do it.  So I did.  For about a minute.  Then the tears came again.

She took Silas and held him.  Then she began to feed him the bottle.  She looked me straight in the eyes the whole time and said, "You are a good mom.  This will all be over soon enough.  You're doing the right thing, here, OK?"  I wish I believed her.  In that moment no one could convince me that this was best.

Eventually Dr. Ellis came back and gave us instructions for supplementing.  He also ordered a jaundice test. He tried one more time to comfort me.  He encouraged Andrew and told him he knew how he as the husband/dad felt.  He'd been there.  He told us to hang in there.  He gave me a half hug on the way out. 

On the way out of the doctor's office every lie the enemy had been whispering all week washed over me.  I wallowed in them.  I let them take root.

You see, I had been feeling inadequate and useless from day one.  I didn't feel like I had gotten much bonding time with Silas and what time I did get was full of sobbing, frustration, and feelings of failure.  I felt like all of those insecurities had just been confirmed.  I wasn't enough.  I couldn't take care of him.  I couldn't even provide for him.  He was only four days old and I'd already failed him completely.  Like I said, I'd been listening to lies.

That first weekend with Silas was probably the toughest weekend I have ever had.  That whole first week was a battle.  Mama and baby continued to end nursing sessions completely distraught.  There were many times when I let negative self talk get in my way. 

I was angry with God.  I cried out to him,"WHY?"  I didn't understand how a God who designed my body to feed my child could let this happen.  Why would he take this away?

There were just as many times when my wonderful husband stepped in and did what he could to comfort me and our son.  There were even a few times when he did what had to be done for both of us and ordered me to bed while he took care of Silas.

At first I resented these efforts on Andrew's part.  Soon enough though I regained perspective and was so grateful to him.  Eventually I realized that my sinking into an emotional black hole wasn't helping anyone...especially not Silas.  I took action.  I reached out to several friends who I knew would provide a backbone of support and prayer.  I also called my counselor and asked for an appointment ASAP.

On Monday Silas had another doctor appointment to do a weight check.  We had heard back from the lab over the weekend that his jaundice levels were normal, so his weight was now our only concern.

Doctor Ellis had the nurse do Silas' measurements and weigh him.  When he came in to the room to talk to us I was praying it was better.  Doctor Ellis started off by asking me how I was.  I told him fine.  He asked me pointedly about my depression.  I assured him it was under control.  He apologized again for the pain this was obviously bringing me and then told us that he had some good news.

Silas had gained weight.  He was now only 17% down from his birth weight.  This was good news!  Dr. Ellis wanted us to continue to supplement but gave me the go ahead to start trying to get Silas back to breastfeeding.  Answered prayer.

That night and the next were still very hard.  When I sat down to nurse Silas refused.  More tears.  More frustration.  More lies.

When I saw Silas take the bottle eagerly, my heart broke all over again.  I was angry.  I was devastated.  I knew nursing would be hard.  His eagerness for the bottle over the breast would make it even harder.  I wasn't sure how to get started again.  I needed help.

So once again I reached out to the circle of women I had surrounded myself with.  They prayed.  They encouraged.  They offered help.  One of them was April Clay. 

Tuesday, January 8th, I got up with a goal: nursing.  I realized that the doctor had just told us the day before that we could start transitioning off of the formula, but I was determined.   The sooner we could get off the formula and stop depending on the bottle so much, the better off both Silas and I would be.  By that afternoon though I was exhausted and no closer to figuring out how to get Silas to latch on, stay latched on, and eat.  I needed help.  I texted April.

That evening April  made arrangements with the Lokey's to watch her kiddos while she came to my rescue.  Once she arrived we headed to the nursery to get down to business.  Andrew joined us.  Something I was so glad for.  He wanted to support me.  He wanted to know how this was supposed to work so that he could understand how to help me. 

Let me just say this:  If you ever need a coach in your corner, April Freakin' Clay is your gal.  We've taken to calling her the lactation guru/coach/genius at our house.  And Mister Silas owes a lot to his sweet Aunt April.  She spent about an hour helping me figure out what positions worked best for us, how to get Silas to latch on and stay on, giving me advice and encouragement for how to make this whole nursing thing work. 

When April left, Andrew just looked at me and said,"We should have called her last week.  It took her an hour to give you back your confidence.  You can totally do this now!"  Folks, that just about says it all.  He was right.  I felt confident.  I felt supported.  I COULD do this.

Within a couple of days we stopped giving Silas the formula.  I was still pumping and letting Andrew give him a bottle when a nursing session wasn't going well, but no more formula.  By the end of that week, we were nursing like pros.  It was amazing the transformation that happened in our boy.  He was content.  He was relaxed.  And mama was pretty changed too.  Those lies that had been gripping me were exposed.  I let them go.  I stepped into the light of Truth.  And Father lovingly reminded me that He'd been there all along.  He just needed me to see that I needed Him.  

We had another weight check that next week.  Silas still wasn't gaining the way that he should, but Dr. Ellis was willing to let me keep breastfeeding exclusively for a week and see what happened.  Silas took the opportunity to have a growth spurt and now that Auntie April had taught him to eat,  he did.  Oh how he ate.  And ate.  And ate.  To the point that mama was having to remind herself that this was good and that we fought so hard for it and it was worth it.  I was exhausted but also thankful.  Being kept up all night by a ravenous newborn was a good thing at this point.  It beat being kept up all night by a frustrated and upset newborn.

We went back for another weight check yesterday.  Dr.  Ellis was so pleased and excited to tell me the results that he could barely contain himself.  Six pounds, nine ounces! He was officially gaining at a 30grams a day rate, which was our original goal.  We had done it!

The last 3 weeks with my son has been one of the hardest experiences of my life.  I have never been more worn emotionally, spiritually, and physically all at once.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I have learned so much about myself and the Lord the last couple of weeks.  I have finally recognized the lengths a parent will go to for their child...it makes the fact that God calls himself our Father so much sweeter...deeper...meaningful.  When I look at the last three weeks in comparison to what our Father in heaven has done for us: forget about it.  I can never again doubt these things about my God and King:  He loves me.  He will fight for me.  He will not give up on me.  He is on my side.