In January of 1995 I underwent a breast reduction surgery taking me from a DD down to a small B. My surgeon told me that he would make every effort to preserve nerves and tissues that would still enable me to breastfeed in the future, but that there was a possibility that I would not be able to nurse future babies. At 19 I was not thinking about the future and really didn’t think it was a big deal either way. I just wanted the reduction to look good, and it did.

When I had Jasper in 1999, I did produce milk. He was a very healthy baby and avid nurser. My nipples cracked and bled. I cried every time I tried to nurse him. I knew I had milk but had no idea how to nurse him. I was in the Navy living in IL and had not read any breastfeeding books and didn’t seek out resources to help. I figured it would come naturally. I blamed my surgery for changing the shape of my nipples, causing an unnatural latch and thus the pain. I gave up after about two weeks and encouragement from my husband (at the time) to just give him some of the formula the hospital had sent home with us. Watching him gulp down the formula I was sure I had been starving the poor little guy for several weeks.

In 2000 I was pregnant again with Julia. I had picked up a copy of Spiritual Midwifery and was now very interested in natural birth and childrearing. I wanted to try breastfeeding again. I regretted not trying harder with Jasper and visited a lactation consultant. She assured me that there was nothing wrong with my breasts. She said that there wasn’t any reason I couldn’t breastfeed Julia when she was born.

Julia was born early as a result of an induction because of a premature rupture of my membranes. I fed her breastmilk from a spoon for a few days because she was so sleepy. My lactation consultant visited me during labor and right afterwards as well, encouraging me to tell the hospital staff I would be using kangaroo care rather than letting them keep her in the nursey. Together we couldn’t get Julia to latch. I was scared of hurting her.

After about three days in the hospital, a pushy RN told me I needed to get Julia to latch or they were going to give her formula. I was upset and said I didn’t know what else to do. She grabbed my left breast in her hand and pushed the babies mouth wide, and shoved us together. Julia latched and that was that. I couldn’t believe it. I am thankful to her to this day for her help. So I was breastfeeding, but then within a few days I had sore and scabbed nipples again. I visited the lactation consultant yet again. She checked Julia’s latch etc. which was fine. I suffered through it for a few more weeks.

Then we got thrush (probably from the antibiotics given to me during my labor with Julia to combat the GBS that I most likely didn’t have). Scabbed nipples plus yeast! Ick. It was misery. Still I tried to stick with it, and around 6 weeks, Julia started crying with intensity every evening. She would cry and I would cry too. My husband gave her a bottle of formula (again, sent from the hospital). I felt like a lousy mother. Here I was, intersted in midwifery and homebirth and all of this natural stuff, and I couldn’t even figure out how to breastfeed without bawling every time I did it.

Several months later I was diagnosed with post partum depression. I started taking medication which helped tremendously but breastfeeding was finished. I continued my studies of midwifery as a hobby, but my own self doubt left me thinking that I might not make a very good midwife. I didn’t have faith in my own body. How could I realistically expect to identify with other women, and encourage them to have faith in theirs? I don’t think that every midwife has to have had a homebirth, or breastfed or even have given birth at all to be a good midwife. But for ME to be a good midwife, I felt I would need to experience all of those things for myself.

Emma came along just three months ago, in 2009. I took a different path with my pregnancy and birth this time. I hired a midwife. I forced my husband to watch The Business of Being Born. I took my prenatal care into my own hands, eating carefully and faithfully taking herbal supplements four times a day to prevent GBS and to strengthen my membranes to prevent the premature rupture I had experienced in two of my pregnancies. I meditated and talked to my unborn baby about how to be born. I read and re-read several great breastfeeding books.I read every article on kellymom.com. I also joined breastfeeding support forums on babycenter.com, which really showed me how incredibly commom sore and cracked nipples are and started thinking that maybe I was just one of those people, that for whatever reason, just get sore and cracked nipples. It didn’t mean I was doing anything wrong. It didn’t mean that I had a bad latch or that that I was holding the baby wrong. It didn’t mean that I was a bad mom who couldn’t figure out how to do something that society tells us should come naturally. It just meant that I get really sore from breastfeeding 20 hours a day, and that was it.

So when Emma was born, I stuck her on the boob and that is where she stayed. I cried, I broke down and sobbed as she nursed! I had prepared my husband for the things I would say. I told him that the word “formula” was NOT to be uttered around me. I nearly gave up. I got mastitis. I was miserable. I was raw and exhausted. A girlfriend came to visit and realized how much pain I was having, and the next day (Thanksgiving Day!) dropped off a coulple of silicone nipple shields. Sweet relief! Why had I never tried these before? The lactation consultants and books I had read said these were a big no-no. But I figured better use them, and at least try to see if they would help, than quit again. I had been afraid of using them, but they saved me. I used one on my sorest nipple for a few days, and then weaned myself down to a few times a day, then only at night…until I didn’t need them at all.

Now, thirteen weeks later, we are going strong and I can finally say that I LOVE breastfeeding. There isn’t anything wrong my body. It took me seventeen years to figure that out, but better late than never.

When my daughter was born our first feed went pretty well, I was very relieved as I have one flat and one inverted nipple so knew there was a chance that I’d have some trouble, she also had a retracted lower jaw, which means she can’t open her mouth quite as wide as most babies. However our next feed, and all of them after that were not so good. Mackenzie could attach to the flat nipple ok, but not the inverted one, and the midwives at our hospital were terrible, each one would give you conflicting advice and instead of coaching they would snatch my daughter and my breast and force them onto one another, one midwife did this and wouldn’t listen when I said she wasn’t attached properly and when she finished I had a big blood blister on my nipple. Another midwife tried to tell me I was starving and dehydrating my daughter and that they had to give her formula. I refused this though and at that point remembered something my sister had told me “If you have any problems ask for a lactation consultant and don’t listen to anybody else”. I didn’t even know if the hospital had one I’d never heard of one before but at this point asked to see one. The midwife tried to refuse me but I insisted and sure enough a lactation consultant was provided.

To begin with we tried using a breast pump to pull my nipple out but when this didn’t work she gave me a nipple shield and said that the midwives would probably try to tell me that you can’t use a nipple shield before your milk has come in because the colostrum is too thick but this isn’t true and she will get some out. This worked wonders on the inverted nipple and the other nipple she was ok with, I thought my troubles were over. The next day my daughter was admitted to the special care nursery to be observed as she’d turned blu on me and they had me feed her every 3 hours and then express to make sure she was getting enough milk because she had dropped a bit of weight (perfectly normal in the first few days I thought). The midwife who’d tried to give me formula turned the breastpump on full ball on my good nipple and tore it to shreds, there was blood everywhere and over 12m later you can still see where the big tear in my nipple was. It was so painful I couldn’t feed from it so had to use the nipple shield on that side as well. Then to top things off I developed an infection in my uterus which the midwife ignored so I ended up very sick and on an antibiotic drip for a few days. It was so painful I could barely move, every time my daughter needed a nappy change it would take me a good half an hour to get up and do it, plus breastfeeding her was made so much more difficult. They also took a sample of my breastmilk for testing at this time and discovered that on top of everything else I had mastitis.

Finally I got through all the infections and was able to go home with my new baby. When I got home I began suffering from sciatica, which made it very uncomfortable to find a comfortable position to sit in, to feed Mackenzie. I would have to sit on 3 pillows on the couch then I had another 3 pillows arranged on and around me to assist me to hold and feed Mackenzie. To rub more salt in the wound a friend came to visit with her 10mo breastfed baby and of course when she fed her it was so easy and quick and painless it reduced me to tears. She assured me she suffered to begin with and it would get easier but I couldn’t foresee it. I continued to suffer from multiple infections and bouts of mastitis plus a case of nipple thrush (OUCH) for the next few weeks and was constantly on antibiotics, which of course went through my milk causing Mackenzie to have a very upset tummy and lots of diarrhoea. Through all of this, and I can’t emphasise just how painful it was, not feeding was never an option. I never thought of giving up feeding or switching to formula cause it would be easier. Instead I just became more determined to stick it out and it was going to get easier if it was the last thing I ever did!

I decided early on that I wanted to feed for a minimum of 12m or until I got Mackenzie off the nipple shields – whichever was the longer of the two (I’ve since changed my mind and am now well on the way to 2 years old) because I absolutely hated the nipple shields. They took so long to fumble with to get on which meant my daughter would be getting quite distressed, plus many people had never seen or heard of them before so they attracted quite a bit of attention. I tried a few different ways to wean her off them but she wouldn’t touch my nipples without them. I hated that it had to be so difficult – why couldn’t it be easy for me, like it seemed to be for everyone else? One night I went along to a friends church thing with her and they had a parenting room there where about 6 mothers sat feeding their babies with ease, I was so jealous. I went home so angry and upset, but also all the more determined and funnily enough Mackenzie must have picked up on this because she didn’t even try to fight me then next time I tried to feed her I didn’t even have a shield nearby just in case. She latched on like we’d been doing it like this all along. We never used a shield again I was so happy I sat there and cried for hours – happy tears of course.

I continued to suffer with the infections and mastitis (I had a severe oversupply of milk which was in no hurry to settle down) for the next few months but finally somewhere between 4-6 months it all finally settled down and I was able to enjoy what was now a wonderful, easy breastfeeding relationship with my beautiful daughter. I developed post natal depression and had to go onto medication during that time and was very apprehensive about doing so whilst feeding but it was either that or no medication, giing up the breastfeeding has never been an option, even now when contraception has become an issue (I can’t take the mini pill) I would rather go without if necessary then stop feeding her.

She is now 14mo and still feeding wonderfully, giving her her precious boobies is the best part of the day I sit down, relax and cuddle her, it is so beautiful – like nothing else in the world. I still suffer the odd bout of mastitis – for example if she has a few night feeds in a row then sleeps a full night I’ll wake up very sick but that’s ok, I recognise the signs and my dr is very good about getting onto it early. My plan now is to feed her until at least 2 – give her the chance to self wean but I don’t know if I can go that much further – we’ll see I originally thought I’d only go 12m and I quicklychanged my mind on that. I have seen so many girls/women I know give up early on claiming they “couldn’t” breastfeed when in actual fact they just want their babies to sleep through the night or because they got a small crack in their nipple and it hurt too much, this makes me very sad – especially when I fought so hard to continue to feed Mackenzie. It also makes me feel very sorry for the people who really can’t feed because they would probably do just about anything to be able to and get a bad name in certain circles because of other people. If I could tell new mums anything it is to perservere as much as you can, it really is worth it. Somedays you may question that but I am so proud of myself and my daughter and I are so close as a result of it, I’m so, so glad I did.

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