Two of the less well-known benefits of breastfeeding

Many of us know of the “benefits of breastfeeding” (not “advantages of breastfeeding”; advantage compares it to something else, and breast should be the standard against which other methods are compared – sorry, just a little sidetrack there). These tend to be based around babies’  and mothers’ health, with a few “bonding” benefits thrown in for good measure.

But here are two of the benefits I’ve discovered that aren’t so well known.

You know how you get told “you’ll be able to read all your baby’s different signals – if he’s hungry, tired or just wants comforting”? And it sounds daunting (and it is)? Well, with breastfeeding, you don’t have to! I mean, you can if you want sit there and try and interpret those cries but this is how it would go:

“Waah! Waah!” What does this cry mean? Slightly high pitched, quite close together… hungry. I know, offer breast for food.

“Waaah! Waaah!” What about this one? Longer cries, lower in town… tired. I know, offer breast for sleep.

“Wah! Wah!” And this? Staccato cry with sharp intakes of breath… wants comforting. I know, offer breast for comfort.

So given the solution is the same in each case, why bother learning? Just offer the breast. In the early months this is a lifesaver; as baby gets older you will find (to your horror, if you are anything like me) that if baby does not want the breast s/he will refuse it anyway.

Another benefit people don’t talk about so often is what it does to your self-confidence, particularly with respect to body image. Maybe it is just me, but I used to dislike my body. So bumpy and lumpy and chubby, and those boobs; so big, but so saggy with their huge pink areola and blue veiny tinge. But now my breasts have a purpose and even the extra stores of fat I have are being made use of to make milk. I feel untouchable; insults about my weight or looks just bounce off.

Baby B strokes at the other breast whilst feeding, and those soft, needy hands stroking down a breast and gently pulling at the nipple to stimulate the milk make me and my body feel truly useful. I know it’s quite sad that I was never able to feel like this before, but at least I have that feeling now.

Anyone think of any more benefits that they don’t tell you?

Don’t blame it on sunshine, moonlight, good time or even the boogie…

Blame it on the breastfeeding.

Have you ever noticed how anything that happens is the fault of breastfeeding?

I’ve heard breastfeeding blamed for everything from non-sleeping babies, fussy babies and clingy babies, to exhausted mothers and marital breakdown.

“He isn’t sleeping long periods,” says a new Mum. “Are you still breastfeeding him?” is almost invariably the first question asked. If the mother is, then the answer given is often, “you need to give him a bottle last thing at night, then he’ll sleep,” or other words to this effect. In other words, it’s because you’re breastfeeding.

“He’s really fussy between feeds,” says another. “Are you still breastfeeding?” “Yes, why?” “Maybe you don’t have enough milk. He’s probably starving. Have you thought about giving him a bottle?”

“My husband and I are hardly speaking these days and I don’t find myself interested in sex,” says a third. “Are you still breastfeeding?” “Yes, do you think that’s something to do with it?” “Well, all I can tell you is that when you stop breastfeeding your libido comes back. Might be worth you stopping now, your baby’s had all the benefits and now your dh needs you.”

Have you ever noticed this? Any problem in a breastfed baby or breastfeeding mother / couple is to do with the breastfeeding.

Let’s see what happens when those mothers above answer, “no, I’m formula/bottle feeding him.”

Sleep: “ah well, that’s sometimes normal. Some babies don’t sleep through for yonks.”

Fussy: “he might just be one of those grizzly babies. Take him for a walk in the pram.”

Sex: “well I’m not surprised you’re not interested! You’re knackered and you’ve just had a baby!”

I could give examples for many more scenarios, but why do people do this? Is it simply because breastfeeding is not the cultural norm and as a result we eye it with some suspicion? We see bottle/formula feeding as the norm; have you ever heard a formula feeding mother told “is it something in the milk do you think?” No, me neither (occasionally I have heard it said, “is it his bottle/teat?” but only with direct reference to feeding problems). But I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve heard it said to breastfeeding mothers. Breast milk is a bit suspicious, as it’s not the cultural norm. You don’t know exactly what’s in it. It’s a bit mysterious, maybe a bit too “unscientific”, and we don’t entirely trust it.

But surely we, as breastfeeding mothers, don’t eye breastfeeding with suspicion, do we? Think about it. Next time you are having a “problem” or you hear of a friend having a “problem” with a (non-feeding) aspect of her baby’s behaviour, just check yourself and see if your first thought is to do with the breastfeeding.

Baby B’s first few weeks – part two.

Finally, I’d met someone who recognised that look of desperation in my eyes. Who didn’t tell me my baby was content, or wasn’t hungry, or just needed a dummy. Who saw that something was wrong, and that I needed it sorted out.

And who introduced me to the breastfeeding support group at Whiston Hospital.

But before that happened, dh and I nearly split up, and mil’s taking baby B so I could “rest” rapidly became mil taking baby B so I could do the housework. In fact, when she returned one day and found me on the internet (Kellymom, or Mumsnet, trying to get breastfeeding support as usual) she actually told dh that I was taking the p- out of him and was lazy. Dh told me this and said, “and you won’t listen to me, but you normally listen to mil, so if she says it, as an independent observer, maybe you’ll think she’s right and more needs doing round here?”

(Dh has since apologised for that attitude I hasten to add!)

So I had that going around in my head; baby B still cried all the time and I succumbed in the end to Prozac.

K helped me attach baby B a bit better; she helped with my positioning so baby B’s lower arm was tucked under my boob. You’d be amazed at the difference this made, but something still wasn’t quite right.

At eight weeks old, I took baby B to the support group. N was on holiday. Another midwife was running it. I told her his latch wasn’t right. “That must be annoying,” she said. That was it.

The desperation was growing worse and as I was just starting on Prozac,  my mental state was growing worse too (Prozac, like many SSRIs, makes things worse before it makes them better). I woke up in the night even when baby B was asleep with a tense feeling in my stomach like a panic attack. I was terrified he might never feed properly and I would have to switch to formula. I can’t tell you why that terrified me so much but it did, it absolutely horrified me; I felt like it would destroy me.

At nine weeks of age, baby B met T. I’ve mentioned T before. T was wonderful. She was running the support group in N’s absence again and actually took me seriously.  We had my boobs out trying all sort of positions, sandwiching my areola and shoving it into baby B’s mouth, rugby balls, cross cradles, cradles and the like. It still wasn’t perfect but it was much better. I practised all through the week, just me and baby B.

Some time in these few weeks, I can’t remember exactly when, I got a sling after advice on Mumsnet. I could now carry baby B and get out and about, whereas before he would scream and scream in a pram and every five seconds I was stopping to pick him up, rock him, then put him back in the pram, walk another five seconds, pick him up… you get the picture.

That helped too. And then, when baby B was ten weeks old I met N. And you know what? I can’t even remember what she did exactly. Some stuff on positioning, helping me by suggesting I pull his chin down when latching him on, but nothing huge. But just knowing that there was a support group where an “expert” actually resided, just knowing that I would be able to breastfeed my baby, made a huge difference.

Of course to dh and mil the difference was the Prozac kicking in; my depression had been affecting baby B and that was why he’d been crying.

And after week ten, things started to get easier. I started co-sleeping; by accident first; I fed baby B lying down and fell asleep myself; when the sky didn’t cave in I did it more and more often. By the time baby B was three months of age things were much better.

It took mine and dh’s relationship until baby B was about five months old to recover; mine and mil’s still isn’t right. But my relationship with baby B, the most important one of them all, is absolutely wonderful.

Baby B’s first few weeks – part one.

So where were we up to? I’d gotten back from the hospital, finally, and feeding seemed to be going well.

In fact, it did seem to go well for quite some time. Baby B would fall asleep on the breast quite quickly though; I knew nothing of breast compression at the time so I would tickle his cheek to try and keep him awake. But other than this, no major worries. He rarely cried and slept for long periods during the day.

Week three of baby B’s life started and dh was due back at work in a few days’ time.  And just as week three started, so did the crying. I say crying. I mean screaming.

The only thing that would quiet him down was being on the breast. At this time I knew nothing of co-sleeping, nothing of feeding lying down, nothing of babywearing and feeding in a sling; I just knew that I could not “get anything done” because baby B would not stop screaming unless he was attached to me.  I also didn’t know he wasn’t sucking right, even though my nipples were in agony and cracked and scabbing over. Even though I was slathering them in PureLan (free with the breastpump I thought was essential) whenever the midwife came to visit, she never mentioned anything about me having sore nipples.

I thought babies were supposed to lie in cots or little bouncing chairs for hours on end. We had a vibrating, bouncing chair for baby B. It did quiet him down for a few moments but never long enough for me to get any housework done.

Enter mil into the equation.

“He’s just a very oral baby who wants to suck. He’s using you as a dummy.”

I had spent hours on Kellymom and other web sites trying to find out what on earth was wrong (his latch, so it seemed, but I did not know how to improve it) and I knew a dummy could interfere with breastfeeding, but gave into pressure in the end.

“Look, we’ll help you, but it has to be on our terms. You can’t have it your own way all the time.”

The only way mil would help me is if I gave baby B a dummy so she could physically remove him from me while I rested. It was the best I was going to get.

I watched mil shove the dummy in baby B’s mouth and listened to him scream and scream while she held it in with one hand and forced his head against her chest with the other, her lips on his head pursed, humming over and over the same childhood ditty about letting a lamp that shined on her shine on the one she loved.

I felt helpless. I couldn’t help my baby. Whenever mil wasn’t looking I put him on the breast. Whenever I was discovered I got, “he isn’t hungry! He just wants to suck!” or “you’re just shoving your boob in his face!” from either mil or dh.

Eventually mil and dh decided he needed formula top ups, to help me get some sleep. I knew this could be the beginning of the end for breastfeeding and fought against it. I kept stalling and stalling and in the end agreed that I would speak with the midwife who was due the next day; they would both be there and I would seek her advice and do what she suggested.

I’d of course hoped that the midwife would be on my side and tell them that formula top ups were the road to the end of breastfeeding.

But no. Going to bed while one of them gave baby B a bottle would help my breasts fill up apparently. As long as I gave baby B fifteen minutes on each breast before I gave the bottle, and only did it on the last feed of the night, my supply would be maintained, supposedly.

I knew the midwife was wrong, but I’d already agreed to give the top ups if the midwife said yes.

Dh drove me to Boots on the retail park; I was crying my eyes out. The midwife had recommended Aptamil; apparently, it’s the best if you can’t breastfeed, and is the closest to breastmilk, supposedly, so we went to buy three cartons of the stuff. I cried all the way around Boots and all the way home. Dh and mil talked about me in hushed voices when they thought I couldn’t hear. “Postnatal depression,” one would say, “yes, most likely,” the other would answer.

And then something happened. From somewhere I found the strength to stave off the top up for one more night. I had heard about a La Leche Peer Counsellor who volunteered and ran a group at the local SureStart centre. It was three days away; all I had to do was procrastinate for three more days and I wouldn’t have to give the top up.

I’m not even sure how I did it but I did. The Peer Counsellor gave me a few tips but could not improve baby B’s latch; that was a very low point especially as there was one other breastfeeding Mum there who actually said, “ah, isn’t it great? A breastfed baby is a contented baby.” Everyone seemed to agree with her. And there was baby B screaming his head off. “Why won’t he suck properly?” I almost cried. “Perhaps he’s not hungry?” one of the other Mums said, listening to baby B’s hysterical wailing.

But I at least had a support group. By this time baby B was about five weeks old and still screaming; I still wasn’t sleeping and was still giving him the dummy, forcing it into his mouth the way mil showed me to.

And then I met K at the support group.  And things finally started to change.

Friday’s support group

On Friday I went as usual to Whiston Hospital with K in the morning and had a whale of a time. Baby B was my demo model as I was called upon to demonstrate feeding lying down, and babywearing.

I hadn’t known I was going to be asked to demonstrate babywearing, but coincidentally, K had asked to borrow one of my slings, as she is going to try out wearing H, so I had my red padded ring sling with me. I also had my purple pashmina (to show K the power of a SPOC*) and my black canvass pouch sling.

So there was I wandering around the room with baby B in various different positions in different slings; I also got to carry one or two of the adorable newborn babies, aww. Hard to believe, even now, only seven months on and with baby B being a slow gainer, that he was ever that little.

One lady came who looked desperate; I remember that look.  Her baby would not settle, cried a lot, liked to cluster feed and she was getting no sleep (hers was the lying down demo). I gently suggested safe co-sleeping, not just at night but also during the daytime naps. It gets me every time that I talk about it that people say, “but… is that okay?” I sometimes wonder if by okay they mean safe, or morally okay, or GP recommended or what exactly they mean.

In fact if you’re not used to sleeping in a bed with a baby, daytime naps are a great place to practise! Just feed lying down, and as you lie there watching your baby suckle away you feel peaceful and just a bit sleepy and baby’s eyes close and…. Zzzzzzzzz…

I remember that look though. Reminded me to get around to writing the story of baby B’s first few weeks… soon, I promise!

But yes, Friday I thought went quite well.  Two pregnant ladies came too; I discussed feeding in public with them and how it is possible to be discreet… if you want to, that is!

*SPOC – simple piece of cloth; you can carry your baby in pretty much anything if you’re inventive enough!

The No Cry Sleep Solution – Elizabeth Pantley

Ah, I love this book. Absolutely love it. Not so much because the solutions in it work (slowly, and with some trial and error) but because it’s written with such care.

Granted, some of it is a bit “home-baked apple pie and Thanksgiving turkey” (the author is from the US) but in the main, it’s just lovely.  It’s also totally non-judgmental. It talks about the pros and cons of pacifier (dummy) use; about ways to get bottle-fed babies to sleep; it does not just concentrate on co-sleeping and even has a section on how to move a co-sleeping baby into its own cot / its own room.

To be fair, some of the chapters are perhaps a little long-winded; some of the information seems to be repeated later on. But in the main it’s a lovely read.

But does it work?

Well, the gist of this book is that there seem to be two schools of thought when it comes to sleep. One is to put up with the night wakings until your baby sleeps through the night by him/herself, and the other is to let baby cry itself to sleep (cio – cry it out), either completely, or by using the “controlled crying” method (a variant on cio). Basically, Pantley was knackered but didn’t want to let her babies cio; however she did want some sleep.

The entire idea behind this book is to help your baby change its sleep associations and gradually, and gently, and without any crying, learn how to settle itself to sleep (and in the process, awaken fully less often).

Her methods do take time and patience. But they do seem – so far – to work. (And when I say works, please remember this caveat.) I co-sleep with baby B and although the night wakings don’t bother me, at about six months dh and I decided we wanted our evenings “back” and wanted to put baby B to bed a few hours before we went up. Baby B however had other ideas; he woke up persistently in the evenings, so it was up and down stairs all evening.

A few weeks of Pantley’s ideas and we actually get a few hours of dh & dw time in the evenings; baby B usually wakes up when we come to bed and enjoys about ten minutes of time having a feed, and a little Daddy cuddle before he goes back to sleep.

So when the time does come to move baby B to his own bed I’d certainly employ Pantley’s ideas again.

I think as with any parenting manual you take what you need and leave the rest. I certainly couldn’t be doing with worrying that baby B is getting three hours nap time every day!  But yes, if you’re struggling with a non-sleeping baby but don’t want to let baby cry, I’d definitely recommend this; it integrates nicely with AP principles but also more culturally “traditional” ideas of parenting too.