A was a much anticipated first bebe and it didn’t ever occur to me that things would be anything but natural and enjoyable.  Of course, not necessarily easy, but if we followed our intuition then all would work out.  I suppose, in pregnancy bliss, one can’t even contemplate the difficulties of a baby screaming constantly with acid reflux, severe allergies and even being tongue tied!  What a combination, especially when one is living in a foreign country where you can’t speak the language and away from normal support structures.

Almost from when A was born, he cried.  Our poor little mouse.  The first attempts to breastfeed were painful and difficult, he didn’t latch on properly and I can remember what seemed like an endless stream of midwifes thrusting by engorged breasts into his tiny red screaming mouth.  Even when I got the hang of the positioning, his sucking felt like broken glass piercing the most sensitive part of my body.  In desperation I started taking pain killers in order to feed him.

I have a strong memory of mother, a committed breast feeder of my younger sister (after suffering two first bebes, my brother and I, in humidity cribs that couldn’t feed) pleading with me to stop trying.  She and I were crying hysterically and the pain that I felt seemed to be an endless cycle between short bursts of sleep. Yet I persisted.

In addition to the constant crying, A pooed constantly with acidic green slime emerging from his cloth nappies.  His tummy was constantly swollen and he barely slept.

I searched for help online and found it in the form of Mary and a wonderful lactation consultant in Brisbane who despite being on a different time zone (we lived in Europe) spent hours on the phone with me making me feel ‘less crazy’.  Following a photo that I sent through to her of A, she casually remarked that he was tongue tied!  I couldn’t believe that hours one on one with lactation nurses in Europe had failed to notice that small fact!  Somehow the explanation for the pain in feeding made me feel justified and not totally insane.

A also had allergies, as it turned out to egg, diary, nuts, seafood and wheat.  I forced myself to eat meat (having been a vegetarian for 15 years) and survived on quinoa, celery, lamb, chicken and garlic so that I could keep breastfeeding A.  It helped marginally, but he even reacted to brown rice. Not surprisingly I ended up in hospital having lost so much weight and weighed down with considerable stress, and to be honest guilt, that everything that I consumed could be hurting my red faced screaming little fellow.

Of course, over time things improved.  I was forced to eat a wider range of foods.  A did not consume solids for 10 months and I breastfed him for 2 years, despite starting a highly demanding job when he was 10 months old.  I have to laugh remembering how I used to run into the bathroom to express and then treated the breast milk as pure gold, not the usual run of things in a large law firm!

When I look back, I am not sure that I could have done any of this without the strong sense of love and commitment that I felt to my little A and the support that I got from my amazing husband and from gorgeous Mary, herself going through so much with little C.  Interestingly though when I think back to a very challenging first year with A, the highlight is the closeness that I achieved with him through breastfeeding.

As I rub my growing belly, I can only pray that my next little one does not have to face the same early challenges.  Breastfeeding is an amazing gift, but at the same time, I would never judge anybody that doesn’t because I know that it’s not always easy.

After my son was born, a long, and exhausting spurious labour resulting in an epidural, and vacuum extraction I was exhausted but exhilarated. When they put him on my chest, our eyes locked and the connection was instant. The midwife immediately put Liam to my breast for a feed, in the lying down position (the only one I could muster the energy for!). That still seemed easy-it was later on that our problems began. I guess there were multiple factors why breastfeeding in the early weeks of Liam’s life was not the easy, innate experience I’d imagined-for either of us. My breasts were larger (DD cup), he was drowsy after the pethidine & epidural drugs I had had during labour, and attachment was not easy. He screamed and fussed and I despaired of ever getting him to attach. I felt fumbly, clumsy, and hopeless. Finally, a lactation consultant recommended the ‘football hold’ coupled with a triangular shaped pillow, which was the most successful position so far. The midwives helped me to express some EBM and spoon-fed him. I asked why we did not use a bottle for the EBM. While I was drastically opposed to formula, I did not understand about nipple confusion. The midwives explained the concept and were very supportive & helpful.

At home the attachment problems continued. Added to this, I had a hard-core case of the baby blues that eventually escalated into PND, little support and a baby that screamed for hours every day with colic. Breastfeeding continued to be difficult, but we persevered. I suffered thrush, sore nipples and engorgement. I made three trips to the breastfeeding clinic. Eventually after 3-4 weeks we began to get the hang of it a bit better, and the 2 hour feeding sessions (40 mins of screaming and crying trying to get him attached-and that was just me!! began to reduce in time and difficulty.

The next thing that happened was I contracted bad case of mastitis. I still remember going to a friend’s house for dinner when Liam was about 6 weeks old, and coming home afterwards literally frozen with cold (her house was not well heated and it was the middle of winter).My breasts were engorged and extremely painful. I got in the shower and tried to get warm. I got into bed with three doonas, and the heater on. Nothing worked-I literally shook with cold and my entire body ached. My breasts were blocked up and the baby screamed…and screamed. My mum came and took me to the doctor, who prescribed antibiotics and then mum took us home to her house, where I eventually recovered. I spoke to a breastfeeding counsellor or health nurse on the phone (I honestly cannot remember which it was!), who told me the best way to deal with mastitis was to express the milk away under a warm-hot shower. I was appalled at the idea of losing all that milk-but I did it, and it worked!

It was relatively smooth sailing for a while after that, but when Liam was around 6 months old, I began to experience terrible stabbing pain in my breast after each feed. I consulted my maternal and child health nurse and my GP-who both told me it was thrush. However, the cream wasn’t working and the symptoms were getting worse, so I rang my health nurse again, this time in tears because the pain was getting unbearable. She send a lactation consultant out to see me, and the LC took one look and told me it was ‘white spot’ – a condition where a blister is blocking up the milk duct and getting infected;the cure for which was to poke a sterilised needle into the blister to pop it! The LC suggested I do this myself. I was horrified, but did as she suggested, and (TMI warning) the blister popped with a gush of pus, milk and blood. Ewwww. It worked though! I was fine after that, save for maybe two subsequent white spot attacks, with I quickly nipped in the bid with the trusty needle method!

Around this time, I spoke to the midwife on the phone who was conducting the follow up interview on the breastfeeding study in which I had participated. She was impressed that I had continued with breastfeeding after the white spot incident. To be honest, I came close to quitting, especially when my mother suggested it might be time to stop if it was causing that much pain, but I was so glad I persevered. At this point, my PND was improving thanks to medical treatment and I was beginning to enjoy parenting a lot more. I was determined to get to 12 months of breastfeeding, and by now felt confident I would.

Around the time Liam was 8 months old, I got a computer and connected to the internet-a whole world of information was at my fingertips! Due to a rather negative experience with being sent to ‘sleep school’ and ultimately rejecting the notion of leaving my baby to cry himself to sleep-but feeling very isolated in my parenting, I discovered some websites about Attachment Parenting. I found this fit my own philosophies and beliefs perfectly, and I read up on all the aspects. One of which was extended breastfeeding and baby-led weaning. I was intrigued to discover some people continued to feed their babies well into toddler hood, and many for longer. This wasn’t entirely a foreign concept, having a friend who had fed her daughter until she was 2.5. At that time, I’d been shocked to learn she was still breastfeeding such a ‘big child’! Not because I thought, it was gross, or wrong or anything like that-simply because I didn’t know you could! I had been under the impression that lactation only lasted a certain amount of time, and most mothers’ milk dried up by the time babies were past 12 months! I laugh at that now, but it goes to show how little many people know about breastfeeding before they have children of their own. Anyway, I began to review my previous notion of breastfeeding to 12 months as a result of reading about the benefits, and so Liam’s first birthday came and went-and I continued to breastfeed. I should also say that he decided to wean himself from my right breast around the age of 11-12 months, and so was feeding solely on my left one. We continued to feed this way for another 3 and a half years!

Many people were shocked to hear I was still breastfeeding well into Liam’s second year. My mother expressed her reservations-however I printed off a few articles for her to read and she never said anything else again! She was if not a convert, at least accepting of why I believed so strongly in the benefits of extended or full term breastfeeding-both physical and emotional.

The challenges Liam and I faced as extended breast feeders after that were purely of the attitudinal variety-let’s face it, breastfeeding past the age of one is still considered an anomaly in our society, however it is slowly improving as people learn more about the benefits. However, I’ve had some ignorant comments, even from GPs, whose education seems to be remarkably basic where breastfeeding is concerned. My MCHN was stunned to hear I was still feeding when L was only 15 months old!! Liam ‘day weaned’ at around 2.5, which in a way was a relief as it meant people at kinder and other places didn’t actually know we were breastfeeding-unless I told them so. As much as I’d like to be a militant warrior about it, I’m usually non-confrontational, and most of all, did not want my child to experience the negativity of anyone making comments in his earshot. However it’s interesting that I did meet a few mums who also breastfed their children as toddlers-who might have never said anything if I hadn’t admitted’ that Liam was still breastfed. I also had plenty of like-minded friends through playgroups, the breastfeeding association and parenting sites and so we were mostly in an environment of support and encouragement where extended breastfeeding was concerned.

Liam breastfed twice a day-morning and night from the age of 2.5-4, and then after a bit of gentle persuasion reduced down to one feed a day at bedtime. Eventually it reduced to once every few days, and then one day he had his last feed. Neither of us knew it was the last one. I was more than ready to stop by then, and only continued as long as I did because Liam’s breast feeds helped my breasts to produce more milk. I needed to express for his baby sister, who was born with a cleft palate so was unable to breastfeed. Had it not been for that factor, I probably would have encouraged him to wean a bit earlier 3.5 four probably. However I am so glad his feeds were able to help both him wean gently and gradually, and his sister to get the precious milk she needed.

Breastfeeding is a wonderful thing. It can be hard, and in some cases impossible-but where possible, it should be celebrated, encouraged and supported. All women who want to breastfeed should be supported to do so, for as long as they and their baby decide is right for them. The relationship I had with my son was one of the loveliest things about parenting a young child, and I still remember fondly all the glowing, warm fuzzy oxytoxin enhanced moments we shared. Looking into his big brown eyes made all the early pain and sacrifice worthwhile