Latch refers to how the baby fastens onto the breast while breastfeeding. A good latch promotes high milk flow and minimizes nipple discomfort for the mother, whereas poor latch results in poor milk transfer to the baby and can quickly lead to sore and cracked nipples. Wikipedia.
******************************
You are still to live one of the most beautiful experiences of this life – latching a baby onto your breast, my mom would tell me when I was pregnant. I expected no less.
Once discharged from the hospital, at home, I continued to persevere, calling on milk in all possible ways (frequent feeding, fenugreek supplements, hand expressing, pump expressing). I do not remember how the pain settled in. The pain was beyond crying. I remember screaming. I lost all self-control. Even the tiny bundle in my arms and the fear that she may go deaf from my screaming was not enough to keep me in check. It did not help the matters that Mira was a slow eater too. She would hang on my breast for 1.5 h at a time (this is extreme though, on average babies feed for 30-40 min).
Moreover, babies need to feed at least every 3 hours. Sucking encourages milk production, so many advise feeding even more often. The first 4 months, I spent 12h out of 24h feeding only. I remember calling myself a cow quite often.
Back to day 1 at home.
My left nipple cracked and bled. This is surely painful. Thankfully nipples are one part of our bodies that regenerates with an incredible speed (Yes, Lansinoh helps! Get one beforehand). For most women the challenges in the breastfeeding journey peak here, the pain lingers for about 2 weeks and then things get much better.
For me though, the breastfeeding was going to get a whole lot worse before, it ultimately became better. Like being dunked into a fiery pit, before finally being whooshed away into a serene lavender field of bliss.
Reader be warned that the next few paragraphs are going to be quite graphic, but I think I need to say it here again – I persisted through the tribulation and now I can say that it was wholly worth it – and I’d do it all again.
So back to my left nipple. As I was saying, it cracked and it bled. As it was very painful, I skipped one feeding, just one feeding (which means I did not feed from that breast for 6 hours) just before going to bed.
I was woken up by shivers and engorged breasts. We next come to the topic of mastitis. Oh, what is mastitis you ask? To answer that question, lets go to the beginning.
When your breasts feel like 2 basketballs hard – that’s when you know you’ve got engorged breasts. If you feed, you quickly find relief. However, if you don’t, engorgement escalates into mastitis. It results in a fever, shivers, and causes the affected breast to turn purple. Did I mention that its viciously painful? Mastitis is a bacterial infection in the mammary gland. At this point, you really need to express the milk. By hand, by pump, by baby, by husband – in any possible way. You need to unblock the milk ducts before it turns into abscess (which is basically pus in your breast for which you need a surgeon). Thank GOD we avoided that!
That night, lying on a chaise long in the bathroom, covered with hot compresses over my chest, I succumbed under my mother’s kneading of my breasts, trying to unblock the milk ducts. It was a very strong massage, on a very tender area. Curling my toes and grinding my teeth, I moaned and cried. She would massage me for 1 hour then we would take 2 hours rest. The whole night. Of course, I would need to feed Mira at some point as well – which was an agony in itself. Sleep-deprivation was the least of my problems.
That first time, my mom saved me from antibiotics.
The second time, it got too far and as my fever was not coming down after 2 days and I was risking abscess, I took antibiotics. They helped, but they gave me thrush (candida albicans) on my breasts which, through feeding, transferred to baby.
Oh my! – this girl is throwing all kinds of medical terms at us! Ha – Let me explain
Candida or thrush as its commonly known is a fungal infection. Thrush exacerbates breastfeeding pain. It hurts the most during let-downs (when milk starts flowing). I would feel a needle penetrating my nipples a thousand times. Many women on forums described the pain the same way. Thrush is a very persistent illness. It is very hard to get rid of and then, it tends to relapse too. It is also very hard to diagnose at the onset (I saw 4 doctors). Our first treatment lasted 2 weeks. The pain did not go away. My husband spent hours on end on forums searching for additional remedies. We tried baking soda, vinegar, grapefruit seeds, gentian violet, etc. We were washing our bedding every day! at 90 degrees Celsius! We removed all carbs from our diet. We were desperate. In pain.
In the mean time, I saw 3 lactation consultants, a few times each (thankfully my insurance took the load – I remember somebody laughing at me when I chose to get a private insurance instead of an engagement diamond ring – girl, I was smart!) to perfect the latch, try new feeding positions, massage my mastitis, etc.
I also got blebs (I mean, why not? Let’s tick all boxes possible). Blebs are nipple blisters, basically thickened skin over a milk duct which, if not relieved, result in bacterial infection and, that’s right, mastitis. The best way to get rid of them is to take a sterilised needle (you can sterilize a simple needle by holding it in the flame) and poke the blister diagonally (the angle of a landing plane, not vertically). Then fill a silicon pump with warm water and Epsom salt and keep it on the breast for 10 min. For me this was a miracle cure.
Four weeks on and the thrush was still there. Since mastitis, engorgement, cracked nipples and thrush were not enough for one person – I also got something called vasospasm (constriction of the blood vessels in the nipples which causes needle-like pain in between feedings). I was now complete. Needle-like pain during and between feedings.
I went to see yet another doctor who prescribed a new drug – fluconazole. I was in such a desperate state that she prescribed me 10 times more the usual dose. The pharmacy refused to dispense it to me. They wanted to call the doctor!
In the meantime, I am having my third mastitis (again on my left). I was so determined not getting antibiotics this time (as I was still battling it’s effects) that I spent 2 hours in a hot shower, expressing by hand. I burnt the breast. Literally. The doctor was not able to distinguish between mastitis and burn – my breast transformed into a raspberry that was peeling off.
The pharmacy finally dispensed my 10 tablets of fluconazole. There was hope again. And an intoxicated liver at the end of it.
Every day I was praying for one more breastfeed for my baby. One more feed. I knew I would not be able to withstand the pain much longer, so one more feeding at a time was all I could ask for. The pain was so strong I was not able to bear anything touching my nipples, be it cloth or water (in the shower). Even silk tank tops would weigh heavy on my thrush-shredded nipples. I was topless the whole time, day or night. We banned all visitors. My mental state was so frail I did not care if I am seen half-naked by visiting midwives, maternity nurses, occasional Deliveroo (food delivery) couriers. Nobody seemed to mind.
At times, my husband or my mom would force me to come outside and see the daylight. We used to live in front of Chelsea bridge separating us from Battersea Park. I remember walking back home on that bridge, tears streaming down my face, my body shivering with anticipation of what is going to come: another feeding session.
I will not write here in detail why I chose to put myself through this torturous journey. I promise you, when your baby is crying in pain, or is sick and you feel like you are ready to die just to help her feel a little bit better, and you know that sucking on your breast will soothe and heal your child, you would not hesitate a second to go to hell. As a mother, of father, you never hesitate to choose between your pain or the pain of your child.
I remember clearly when I had my first pain-free feed. It was week 8. I was in the bedroom. It was a clear morning. I latched Mira to my breast and then I started crying, crying and shouting: It does not hurt! It does not hurt! It does not hurt! I would go on and on and on… (I’m crying now as those joyous feelings flood me again). What a jolly day that was! I was finally experiencing what my mom and other women told me about: it will get better one day (never mind the wait was long).
Conclusion
I am not a masochist. I am a mother.
As much as I pride myself on being a mother and persevering through this experience, I would not be breastfeeding Mira today if not for my husband and my mom. I had support. Lots of support.
Every single time I would breastfeed (every 3 hours), Aditya would come next to me (rise from the bed if he were sleeping) and sit quietly within my reach. Not once did he object to my suffering, to my insane stubbornness, to my shouting, to my swearing, to my cursing. Not once did he push me to withstand the pain. Not once did he judge me for making a choice that brought a lot of pain to our entire family. Both of us do not remember clearly those first months, nor do we remember Mira (if not for the pictures).
Mira is 11 month old today. She is still breastfed. Beyond week 8, this journey was a very rewarding experience. And I would do it again, if I had to.
I wish you all well, be healthy and may you read trying stories only on blogs and forums!
Gînduri desculțe 