ChezPerky

So you’d think after nearly 8 months of breastfeeding triplets, I’d have this breastfeeding thing down pat, right? No problems, no issues… I’d be an old pro. But when you ask a question of a woman who has PhD, APRN, CPNP, and IBCLC next to her name and her answer is “Unfortunately, there is much we do not know about breastfeeding and some of the breast issues that can accompany it,” well, then you just know you’re out of luck, don’t you? And when you ask the same questions of your OB, and he also shrugs and says, “Unfortunately, there’s a lot we just don’t know about breastfeeding,” well, you know you’re totally screwed.

Let me back up. There is much you don’t know, and some you do, so let me review and fill in the blanks.

So to review, in the NICU all the babies had TPNs and then eventually gavage (NG Tube) feedings until eventually I was able to breastfeed them. When they left the hospital, they all freaked out and said, “This breastfeeding thing is hard work” and they all forgot how to do it. After many tears, Sam and Ellie became champion breastfeeders. Abby never figured it out again. She was my tiny baby and always had the hardest time forming an effective latch (let’s face it, her tiny mouth, my, um, not-so-tiny breast? It was destined to fail). I worked hard with her, but it never happened despite repeated efforts with various techniques, various tools (SNS, finger feeding, cup feeding, syringe feeding, etc.), multiple lactation consultations, and 7 months of trying. Now that she’s got two teeth, well, I’ve officially given up with her despite assurances from multiple sources that they’ve seen babies figure it out as late as 8 or 9 months. Nope, she causes me significant pain just biting down on my finger (she actually broke the skin on my finger tonight!) with those little teeth, no WAY am I subjecting my nipples to that abuse. So we’re done trying with her, end of story. So she gets pumped milk.

I call the pump, who’s name is Maggie Moo if you’ll recall, my fourth baby. That damn pump. I used to love pumping, because I’m a total freak. I got a weird satisfaction out of being able to SEE that my body was actually doing something it was supposed to be doing for once. Watching the bottles fill up with this strange white substance that nourished my babies made me feel like I was accomplishing a great miracle, and I absolutely loved it. But I’ve really come to hate pumping, which I admit makes me feel somewhat guilty, because what right do I have to hate something so crucial to my babies’ basic needs? But hate it, I do.

Breastfeeding itself is a strangely satisfying experience also. I love to watch my babies eating and going from frantically hungry to patiently satisfied in just seconds. I love to hold them so close and know that I’m nourishing them. I hated when Ellie was “failure to thrive” that I had to give her a certain number of bottles per day no matter what, because I really missed that time breastfeeding her, and I’m grateful to have that time back. I love the middle of the night and morning feeds that best, because we’re not in a rush… we lay in bed together and I let them nurse to their hearts’ content and switch of babies whenever the first one is done (for the morning, that is… Ellie never eats in the middle of the night… Sam does, and he’s very snuggly for those feeds).

And it’s that closeness and snugglyness and the knowledge that in this way my body has chosen not to betray me that makes the rest of it worth it. The rest of it? Oh yes, the rest of it. Let me tell you about the rest of it, because therein lies the mystery.

I remember while the babies were in the NICU I was running ragged one day and I’d been at the NICU so long that I’d missed one pumping session (I was still then pumping every 2 hours religiously, so they kind of ran one into the next back then). I came home to change and eat dinner during the NICU’s shift change before heading back over there and as I was pulling my shirt off over my head my arm brushed over my left breast and I screamed in pain. What the Hell Is That?? I cried out to my husband. Fortunately, Seth is smarter than me, and he immediately jumped up and said, “You must have a plugged duct. You need to pump and you need a heating pad.” How the friggin’ FRICK does my husband know this stuff??? Sure enough, he was exactly right. I will never forget the pain from that plugged duct, though, because it was really shocking how much a little milk backed up in a duct can hurt! I vowed never to allow that to happen again (hah!). Little did I know, that was just the first of the many times that I would experience breast pain over the course of my breastfeeding experience.

Oh yes, there were the two, possibly three, bouts of mastitis that I had. And I can’t begin to describe the JOY of mastitis. Hard, red, ouchy horrifying region on my breast, high fever (104+!), pain, pain, pain. The only thing you can do is breastfeed constantly (fortunately, I had lots of babies to help me out with that one, but who wants to breastfeed babies when you’re running a high fever?), use warm compresses, massage (OUCH) the area, and pray for death until it goes away. Oh, and take antibiotics. There’s that, too.

We had the standard latch issues which led to sore nipples (hey, this is my blog, if you don’t want to read about my nipples, go somewhere else!), but we eventually got past that. What no one told me was that when the babies got to be a certain age (oh, say, I don’t know, 7.5 months?) the babies would become somewhat distractible, to say the least, and they become big slackers when it comes to latching. This leads to lousy latches, and SERIOUSLY PAINFUL nipples.

And the thrush. OH, the thrush. Thrush is a yeast infection, but what they don’t tell you about thrush is that it’s a bitch to get rid of and it comes with sharp, knife-like stabbity pains that radiate through your breasts and make you want to DIE A MISERABLE DEATH because at least then it would be over! And when you’ve got three babies who keep passing it back and forth and back to you and then you give it back to them, and you keep sterilizing their pacifiers, but you can’t sterilize your own breasts, and it just goes on and on… Well, it’s a vicious cycle. I went through at least five separate incidents with thrush, and each was more miserable than the next. I was in tears every time I breastfed, but if I stopped breastfeeding, I got a plugged duct (and hey, if you keep doing that, you can end up with mastitis! See the vicious cycle here?), so suffice it to say, not breastfeeding and just pumping was not an option (and besides, pumping wasn’t so pleasant, either). So yeah, THRUSH SUCKS. Nothing really seemed to help thrush either, though two weeks on diflucan did finally wipe it mostly out and that combined with Nystatin and a lot of prayer, well, I don’t have it now, so clearly soemthing worked eventually. The pediatrician said eventually babies just seem to outgrow their propensity for developing thrush, so hopefully we’re done with it for good. Here’s hoping.

Then in March I had pain in my left breast that wouldn’t go away. The only way I can explain it is that it felt like a deep bruise in the breast tissue, but there was no external bruise. There was no hard, lumpy spot, so it definitely wasn’t a plugged duct (plus it lasted about 3 weeks). The LC I spoke with at the time thought it COULD be related to the thrush that I was battling (I doubt it), or COULD be low level mastitis (who knows), or COULD be oh who knows what. The bottom line is that it ultimately resolved itself.

And then about two weeks ago, the pain came back. And it’s pretty significant pain. IT HURTS. Like owie, owie, ouchy hurt. The pain was accompanied by fever… as one escalated, so did the other. And since the pain lasted for over a week, I finally gave up and called my OB/GYN’s office. They completely misunderstood my initial description and offered me a nipple cream and I reiterated that this is not nipple pain that this is pain IN the breast tissue and it hurts like HELL. The nurse recommended that I come in for a breast exam. Well, why the hell not? I mean, after all, I’ve had doctors poke and prod every other part of me… I may as well have some random doctor handle my breasts, too, right?

And, so, in I went. And basically? The doctor, who was rather nice (I’d never met this member of the practice before), shrugged and said, “Unfortunately there’s a lot we just don’t know about breastfeeding.” He said that producing this much milk for my little army for this long is probably putting a lot of strain on the breast tissue, and that hurts. He gave me a script for pain medicine and told me to treat the pain as needed when it happens, but couldn’t give me any other answers.

As a last ditch effort, I checked with the lactation consultant at the agency where I work. You know, the one with that LONG list of initials after her name? Yeah, her. And even she seriously just said, “Unfortunately, there is much we do not know about breastfeeding and some of the breast issues that can accompany it.” It astounds me that something that seems so basic – breastfeeding – can be such a mystery to doctors, nurses, lactation consultants, women, babies, everyone.

And THAT is the mystery of breastfeeding. For what it’s worth, the pain in my left breast cleared up on Monday. Today I’m in serious pain on the right side, and hey! Just for fun, we threw in a fever, too. I give up.

When all is said and done, though, I still think it’s worth it. I love feeding my babies. I love that I can. I love that I do. I love that my body didn’t betray me this time. I love that I’m the only one that can do this for them. I love the closeness that I have with them. Even with Abby – because even though she won’t latch… I’ll tell you one thing, that baby LOVES my milk. She seriously prefers my milk over formula. She HATES formula and LOVES my milk. And I love that about her. It’s really great. It’s totally worth it.

So you'd think after nearly 8 months of breastfeeding triplets, I'd have this breastfeeding thing down pat, right? No problems, no issues… I'd be an old pro. But when you ask a question of a woman who has PhD, APRN, CPNP, and IBCLC next to her name and her answer is "Unfortunately, there is much we do not know about breastfeeding and some of the breast issues that can accompany it," well, then you just know you're out of luck, don't you? And when you ask the same questions of your OB, and he also shrugs and says, "Unfortunately, there's a lot we just don't know about breastfeeding," well, you know you're totally screwed.

Let me back up. There is much you don't know, and some you do, so let me review and fill in the blanks.

So to review, in the NICU all the babies had TPNs and then eventually gavage (NG Tube) feedings until eventually I was able to breastfeed them. When they left the hospital, they all freaked out and said, "This breastfeeding thing is hard work" and they all forgot how to do it. After many tears, Sam and Ellie became champion breastfeeders. Abby never figured it out again. She was my tiny baby and always had the hardest time forming an effective latch (let's face it, her tiny mouth, my, um, not-so-tiny breast? It was destined to fail). I worked hard with her, but it never happened despite repeated efforts with various techniques, various tools (SNS, finger feeding, cup feeding, syringe feeding, etc.), multiple lactation consultations, and 7 months of trying. Now that she's got two teeth, well, I've officially given up with her despite assurances from multiple sources that they've seen babies figure it out as late as 8 or 9 months. Nope, she causes me significant pain just biting down on my finger (she actually broke the skin on my finger tonight!) with those little teeth, no WAY am I subjecting my nipples to that abuse. So we're done trying with her, end of story. So she gets pumped milk.

I call the pump, who's name is Maggie Moo if you'll recall, my fourth baby. That damn pump. I used to love pumping, because I'm a total freak. I got a weird satisfaction out of being able to SEE that my body was actually doing something it was supposed to be doing for once. Watching the bottles fill up with this strange white substance that nourished my babies made me feel like I was accomplishing a great miracle, and I absolutely loved it. But I've really come to hate pumping, which I admit makes me feel somewhat guilty, because what right do I have to hate something so crucial to my babies' basic needs? But hate it, I do.

Breastfeeding itself is a strangely satisfying experience also. I love to watch my babies eating and going from frantically hungry to patiently satisfied in just seconds. I love to hold them so close and know that I'm nourishing them. I hated when Ellie was "failure to thrive" that I had to give her a certain number of bottles per day no matter what, because I really missed that time breastfeeding her, and I'm grateful to have that time back. I love the middle of the night and morning feeds that best, because we're not in a rush… we lay in bed together and I let them nurse to their hearts' content and switch of babies whenever the first one is done (for the morning, that is… Ellie never eats in the middle of the night… Sam does, and he's very snuggly for those feeds).

And it's that closeness and snugglyness and the knowledge that in this way my body has chosen not to betray me that makes the rest of it worth it. The rest of it? Oh yes, the rest of it. Let me tell you about the rest of it, because therein lies the mystery.

I remember while the babies were in the NICU I was running ragged one day and I'd been at the NICU so long that I'd missed one pumping session (I was still then pumping every 2 hours religiously, so they kind of ran one into the next back then). I came home to change and eat dinner during the NICU's shift change before heading back over there and as I was pulling my shirt off over my head my arm brushed over my left breast and I screamed in pain. What the Hell Is That?? I cried out to my husband. Fortunately, Seth is smarter than me, and he immediately jumped up and said, "You must have a plugged duct. You need to pump and you need a heating pad." How the friggin' FRICK does my husband know this stuff??? Sure enough, he was exactly right. I will never forget the pain from that plugged duct, though, because it was really shocking how much a little milk backed up in a duct can hurt! I vowed never to allow that to happen again (hah!). Little did I know, that was just the first of the many times that I would experience breast pain over the course of my breastfeeding experience.

Oh yes, there were the two, possibly three, bouts of mastitis that I had. And I can't begin to describe the JOY of mastitis. Hard, red, ouchy horrifying region on my breast, high fever (104+!), pain, pain, pain. The only thing you can do is breastfeed constantly (fortunately, I had lots of babies to help me out with that one, but who wants to breastfeed babies when you're running a high fever?), use warm compresses, massage (OUCH) the area, and pray for death until it goes away. Oh, and take antibiotics. There's that, too.

We had the standard latch issues which led to sore nipples (hey, this is my blog, if you don't want to read about my nipples, go somewhere else!), but we eventually got past that. What no one told me was that when the babies got to be a certain age (oh, say, I don't know, 7.5 months?) the babies would become somewhat distractible, to say the least, and they become big slackers when it comes to latching. This leads to lousy latches, and SERIOUSLY PAINFUL nipples.

And the thrush. OH, the thrush. Thrush is a yeast infection, but what they don't tell you about thrush is that it's a bitch to get rid of and it comes with sharp, knife-like stabbity pains that radiate through your breasts and make you want to DIE A MISERABLE DEATH because at least then it would be over! And when you've got three babies who keep passing it back and forth and back to you and then you give it back to them, and you keep sterilizing their pacifiers, but you can't sterilize your own breasts, and it just goes on and on… Well, it's a vicious cycle. I went through at least five separate incidents with thrush, and each was more miserable than the next. I was in tears every time I breastfed, but if I stopped breastfeeding, I got a plugged duct (and hey, if you keep doing that, you can end up with mastitis! See the vicious cycle here?), so suffice it to say, not breastfeeding and just pumping was not an option (and besides, pumping wasn't so pleasant, either). So yeah, THRUSH SUCKS. Nothing really seemed to help thrush either, though two weeks on diflucan did finally wipe it mostly out and that combined with Nystatin and a lot of prayer, well, I don't have it now, so clearly soemthing worked eventually. The pediatrician said eventually babies just seem to outgrow their propensity for developing thrush, so hopefully we're done with it for good. Here's hoping.

Then in March I had pain in my left breast that wouldn't go away. The only way I can explain it is that it felt like a deep bruise in the breast tissue, but there was no external bruise. There was no hard, lumpy spot, so it definitely wasn't a plugged duct (plus it lasted about 3 weeks). The LC I spoke with at the time thought it COULD be related to the thrush that I was battling (I doubt it), or COULD be low level mastitis (who knows), or COULD be oh who knows what. The bottom line is that it ultimately resolved itself.

And then about two weeks ago, the pain came back. And it's pretty significant pain. IT HURTS. Like owie, owie, ouchy hurt. The pain was accompanied by fever… as one escalated, so did the other. And since the pain lasted for over a week, I finally gave up and called my OB/GYN's office. They completely misunderstood my initial description and offered me a nipple cream and I reiterated that this is not nipple pain that this is pain IN the breast tissue and it hurts like HELL. The nurse recommended that I come in for a breast exam. Well, why the hell not? I mean, after all, I've had doctors poke and prod every other part of me… I may as well have some random doctor handle my breasts, too, right?

And, so, in I went. And basically? The doctor, who was rather nice (I'd never met this member of the practice before), shrugged and said, "Unfortunately there's a lot we just don't know about breastfeeding." He said that producing this much milk for my little army for this long is probably putting a lot of strain on the breast tissue, and that hurts. He gave me a script for pain medicine and told me to treat the pain as needed when it happens, but couldn't give me any other answers.

As a last ditch effort, I checked with the lactation consultant at the agency where I work. You know, the one with that LONG list of initials after her name? Yeah, her. And even she seriously just said, "Unfortunately, there is much we do not know about breastfeeding and some of the breast issues that can accompany it." It astounds me that something that seems so basic – breastfeeding – can be such a mystery to doctors, nurses, lactation consultants, women, babies, everyone.

And THAT is the mystery of breastfeeding. For what it's worth, the pain in my left breast cleared up on Monday. Today I'm in serious pain on the right side, and hey! Just for fun, we threw in a fever, too. I give up.

When all is said and done, though, I still think it's worth it. I love feeding my babies. I love that I can. I love that I do. I love that my body didn't betray me this time. I love that I'm the only one that can do this for them. I love the closeness that I have with them. Even with Abby – because even though she won't latch… I'll tell you one thing, that baby LOVES my milk. She seriously prefers my milk over formula. She HATES formula and LOVES my milk. And I love that about her. It's really great. It's totally worth it.