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.

Comment in the cafe

I wandered to Caffé (yes, they spell it with a double F) Nero today in St Helens Town Centre as baby B needed a feed and a change. I sat down with my ultra cheap filter coffee and fed baby B.

A woman from the other corner of the room stormed (it seemed like she stormed!) over to me and my heart sank. Not that I’m not a bolshie so and so but I just was not in the mood for a confrontation. So when she started with, “I just want to say,” I thought, “oh shoot. This is going to be bad.”

“I just want to say I think it’s lovely what you’re doing and I only wish more people would do it.”

It made my day; I thanked her profusely!

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!

Thursday just gone

This Thursday just gone me, A and a friend that I met from Mumsnet went to Whiston Hospital for the antenatal workshop N runs.

And it was chocka! About ten pregnant women, us three nursing Mums and of course N; a full house! Excellent as always; the hand expression boob was out, lots of knitted boobs were everywhere, the jellybean game went down well and the whole thing was a roaring success.

And one of the Mums said, “I wasn’t sure until I came here, and the workshop’s been great. But what’s convinced me more than anything else is watching you three breastfeed your babies, it looks so natural and easy.”

Well I was grinning from ear to ear; what a lovely thing to say, and how true; the more you see women breastfeeding, the more likely you are to do it!

Can I bring my baby?

I have been a bit – well, gutted really – that the money has run out and I need to get a paid job. I always knew it was on the cards, but I’d hoped we’d be able to stretch it a bit longer. (Although originally we thought we’d only stretch it until September but with tax credits and child benefit have spun it out longer so actually it’s not that bad.) I felt particularly gutted that I’ve only just completed my Peer Counsellor course and wouldn’t be able to use it.

So I did some thinking and decided that I would like to run a session on a weekend. There’s already a session on Tuesday afternoons at our local Sure Start centre, which a lovely lady called H runs, and obviously I wouldn’t want to detract from any of the work she does, so I thought about how to make it different. The answer came to me after attending one of N’s antenatal workshops; lots of women said they wanted to come but couldn’t get the time off work. Although by law pregnant women are allowed time off work to attend antenatal classes, it often doesn’t actually work that way, and most pregnant women can’t attend them until the very end of their pregnancy, when they’re on maternity leave. This isn’t a great time really; they’re so exhausted and tired that things go in one ear and out the other (well, things did with me, anyway)!

So I thought about setting something up for pregnant women on a Saturday.  This would kill two birds with one stone; I’d be able to do something with my training, and it would be great for pregnant women (and also partners, who often aren’t allowed time off for antenatal classes, but are so important in helping women breastfeed).

I discussed it with K who agreed it was a good idea, and was going to the centre anyway the next day and would mention it to them.

I received a phone call from K later on that day saying, “I’ve told them, they think it’s a great idea… except, we can’t bring our babies as they’d be too much of a distraction.”

What?! We can’t bring our babies with us? Our breastfed babes in arms can’t come to a class all about breastfeeding? Surely a picture is worth a thousand words; surely actually watching another woman breastfeed, seeing that it doesn’t hurt, that it does become easy, enjoyable even, that it can be done and fitted in as part of everyday life, surely that’s important?

I was all ready to go down and raise hell, kick up a storm and put my point across until dh very wisely suggested that this might not be the best idea.  He said that he’d be happy to babysit baby B if necessary, but I said that wasn’t the point, I actually wanted to take baby B as, well, a demo model!

Before I went on maternity leave my career has been one of working in sales and recruitment so I decided to go to the Sure Start centre and sell the benefits of bringing a baby along, using an assumptive close!

I went down to the centre, had a chat with H and then talked to J, the manager about my idea, which I sold as, “I think it’s really important for pregnant women to see a real live baby breastfeeding,” or words to that effect.

So the idea was sold, everyone agreed, and I get to bring my baby, and K gets to bring H.

We’ll be starting it in the New Year; I’m excited!

Anyway I had better go, my real live demo model is waking up… more later!

It’s been a while; what’s been going on?

It’s been a while since I last posted; sorry! What’s been going on since then, then?

Well, I’ve finished the Peer Counsellor course for a start, although we’ve opted for an extra session on healthy eating (I say “opted”; we were press-ganged really ) so we have that this afternoon but then no more sessions until our graduation on January 28th. I still don’t have my CRB check back and it seems like everyone else does; no idea why that is, there’s certainly nothing dodgy about me!

I’ve been to another session at Whiston Hospital which was excellent, and I feel now more “qualified” to give help and support now I’ve finished my course. I’ll blog on that in a bit. I also attended an antenatal class that N ran, and met up with a friend from Mumsnet.

I’ve fallen victim to a bit more biting from baby B as he’s been getting a top tooth through, bless him.

Baby B has been taking more solid food as his pincer grip seems to be coming along pretty well and he can grab more to put in his mouth. I’ve also been giving him small sips of water in the slanted open cup so he gets used to it.

I’ve been arranging, with K and another lady called H, a session at our local Sure Start centre for pregnant women to learn about breastfeeding. More on that in a bit too.

And the big one; I’ve been job hunting, which is why I’ve not been on here as often. Yes, the money has truly run out; I knew it would eventually although we were hoping it would last a teeny bit longer, but no. Come January, I have to be earning money and a reasonable amount. I’ve two interviews lined up in the coming weeks, with more applications on my desk for which I have to apply.

So that’s why I’m up at twenty past six, even though baby B is fast asleep upstairs; I’ve been neglecting my blog and thought it was time to make up for it, so I crept away from the bed early in order to do so!

Breastfeeding support group

Went to the support group at Whiston today as usual; I could feel a cold coming on but I thought, “all these breastfed babies… they can fight off this cold quite easily if they get it!”

K couldn’t come because she was having a freezer delivered, but all the other “usual suspects” were there.

Baby B was in a bit of a funny mood today; on and off the boob like a fiddler’s elbow!

Oh, T was there again this week too.

When baby B was about ten weeks old, T was the first person who actually sat down, listened to me, and agreed with me that there was a problem with his latch and that… with a bit of help… we could fix it. The feeling of relief I felt on meeting T was absolutely immense.

I wonder if it’s time soon to do the story of baby B’s first few weeks?

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.

What worked for me – part two; sleep

In the early days, before I had discovered co-sleeping, baby B slept beside the bed in a Moses basket. And of course I got very little sleep. I had fallen into the trap of obsessing about how much sleep baby B got; how long were the night time stretches? Any longer than the night before? Any sign he’d meet that oh-so-important milestone, “sleeping through the night” any time soon?

What helped me, apart from taking him into the big bed and never looking back, was not to think about how much sleep baby B was getting but rather to think about how much sleep I was getting. If I could somehow manage to get eight or nine hours in a twenty four hour period, I knew I’d get through.

Of course, sometimes that meant going to bed much earlier than usual; eight or nine o’clock on some nights; sometimes it meant catching up with sleep during the day on the very rare occasions that baby B would take a nap longer than 45 minutes.

But as soon as I took the focus off his sleep, and onto my sleep,  it didn’t seem to matter that I was sitting up on the rocking chair at four in the morning trying some pretty harsh breast compression in an effort to get baby B to take just a bit more milk to get him to sleep just that little bit longer.

And when I started co-sleeping, I was getting almost eight hours’ sleep every night; occasionally I build up a little bit of a sleep deficit which is solved easily by just going to bed a little bit early once or twice a week.