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.
