Just over a week ago I gave birth to my first child, a little girl we named Gemma. I wasn't quite sure what to expect from motherhood aside from everyone warning me about impending lack of sleep and how my life would never be the same. Both are true. But the first thing I have learned since becoming a new mom, is that in order to survive the biggest life change ever - I must embrace compromise.
I don't mean with the baby or even my husband. I mean with myself.
Throughout my pregnancy I figured out my "birth plan" which included no pain medications, no interventions, laboring in a hot tub... as close to a natural birth as possible. But towards the middle of my third trimester I was diagnosed with a rare pregnancy condition, cholestasis, which required me to be induced at 37 weeks for the well-being of my baby girl. Induction meant the polar opposite of my "birth plan" - interventions, constant monitoring, pitocin, having my water broken by my midwife and, ultimately, boatloads of pain management.
Although this reality was about a 180 from my fantasy birth experience the end result was what mattered. And I gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Because of Gemma's early arrival she was diagnosed with newborn jaundice and my dreams of breastfeeding were put on hold as my body was not quite ready to sustain another life on the outside. We were forced to supplement with formula, which I had never even considered. We had also wanted to cloth diaper from the getgo, but the hospital only used sposies... more of my plans continued shattering.
Once we got Gemma home I was determined to get formula out of her routine. But my body still wasn't producing enough milk and Gemma was struggling with latching. Although we were now home, sposies kept finding their way into our diapering routine as sometimes it was just easier to grab one that was within reach.
We started off finger feeding Gemma formula so she wouldn't get nipple confusion. But the routine became cumbersome quickly. It was taking an hour and a half (or more) for me to pump (nothing was coming out), try to put her on the breast (she wasn't interested) and then finger feeding her formula... I realized how easy it would be to just switch over 100% to formula, but I wasn't ready to do that. I hadn't given up on my breasts. I have been a 34D for most of my life - these days an enormous 38E. I had faith that my breasts would be more than just Dolly Parton look-alikes. And my patience paid off. A few days ago, my milk started to come in, I bought a "breast friend" nursing pillow (it has become my breast friend just as advertised) and Gemma has started latching. But we could not abandon the formula just yet... To make life a little easier, we switched over to a slow flow nipple (Nuk fits on any bottle and seems to be working). And my routine changed once again. Now I am putting her directly on the breast for 20 minutes and if she continues to latch I switch her to the 2nd breast for 5-10 more minutes. In rare cases another full 20 minutes. Then we bottle feed her formula. And then, I pump for 15 minutes and put whatever milk I've expressed in the fridge.
My husband came up with a plan for us to both take turns getting about 4-5 hours of sleep straight. This would require me to skip pumping AND feeding in the middle of the night. Upon first hearing his suggestion my mind immediately went to my anal regimented plan which required me pumping and putting Gemma to the breast every 3 hours. But thankfully the rational part of my brain was able to talk some sense into the sleep deprived part. Skipping one pumping/feeding and gaining a few hours of sleep in a row make mama a happy woman. And a happy mama is important for a happy baby.
Last night was our first night of the new routine. Sleeping from about 10pm to 3am was nothing short of AMAZING. And I had made enough milk yesterday that my husband was able to give Gemma a nice sized bottle of my milk while I slept. A win-win situation for all.
Compromising is saving me from myself. Otherwise, I would be kinda miserable. Not able to live up to my own expectations. And putting tons of pressure not just on myself, but on my little one to perform on demand.
And let's be real... I'll never be in complete control of my baby (not that I would even want to be) so compromise is also teaching me to let go a little... and to not just enjoy my baby, but my life as it continues to change from moment to moment...
