a year with twins: nursing

 I started a whole bunch of these Year with Twins posts and then never posted them. But I thought in light of World Breastfeeding Week this past week, I would share this post about our breastfeeding journey. {Am I the only one who thinks of the Bachelor/ette when I use the words journey, connection, or here for the right reason? I really hope not.} Anyways, I think breastfeeding has become a hot topic lately and it's one I've kind of steered clear of because there's a whole lot of judging going on from both sides. But if there's one thing moms need less of it's judgement from others, from themselves, from whoever. In the end, moms do what they have to do to keep their babies alive-whether they nurse, use formula, or a combination. And no matter what, keeping a baby alive and well and happy deserves a high five in my book. Obviously, the health benefits for both mother and baby are well known but I think a lot of people don't realize how truly difficult it can be for some while for others it comes as second nature. {Case in point: my babies.} 

The first time I nursed the girls at the same time without the help of nurses/lactation specialists. The girls had been out of the hospital a little less than a week.

I knew all about the health benefits of breastfeeding but being in the middle of a twin pregnancy I was blessed with a certain measure of openness and hopefulness. I didn't have a list of expectations that would break my heart were they not met. I had a few friends go through some scary situations with their multiples and I was willing to do whatever it took to cook them the longest I could, deliver them in the safest manner possible, and get their weight up. Did I want a c-section? No. But I knew it was a possibility throughout my entire pregnancy so I was at peace with their delivery when it became necessary. I wouldn't change a thing about their birth and I feel blessed to be able to say that. Did I want to breastfeed? Yes. But I had witnessed many friends struggle to nurse their single babies. I knew it was harder than a lot of people let on so when people asked if I planned to nurse the girls, I always said, 'I really hope to but we'll see what happens.' Some people might think that attitude would set one up for failure but I think that attitude is what helped us be successful in this area. I wasn't going to beat myself up if it didn't go how I planned. But I was going to try my hardest to do what I thought was best for my girls. 

And then they were here and I was groggy from the c-section and I lost all modesty and accidentally flashed way too many people. {So sorry.} I nursed CG right away. The moment after they sewed me up and moved me to the recovery room, they were there. The nurse handed me Charleigh and she latched on like she was born to nurse. {She would continue to think that's why she was born for a very long time. Especially in the middle of the night.} Right after she nursed, they came to get more blood from the girls and I wonder if that made the difference in the girls' latches, etc. I didn't get to nurse Lo for a little while after that. And while her latch wasn't as natural, we were doing it. 

They both lost a lot of weight. I was pumping after each nursing session to get my supply up. Logan lost the energy to latch and suck. We faced the decision to risk staying in the hospital a lot longer or to try supplementing with a little formula. I honestly struggled with that decision for about .2 seconds. Would they not want to nurse? Would they prefer a bottle to me? {Turns out Lo just preferred sleeping to anything and wouldn't nurse or drink from a bottle.} But were they getting the nutrients they needed? No. So my decision was made. I sent up a prayer it would still work out and went ahead with a little formula. I still nursed them every time they were hungry and pumped. While Paul syringe fed Lo colostrum and formula and bottle fed CG. I wasn't giving up on nursing and we weren't giving up on getting our girls the calories they needed. Looking back now, it was exhausting but in the moment you just do what you have to do. Our nurses and doctors were amazing. They never pushed anything on us and made it clear it was their priority that we successfully nursed the girls. And in the end, we did. 

It took Lo about two weeks to finally latch on well and, even then, it was really painful for awhile. I still remember trying to nurse her every time she was hungry and seeing her get frustrated. We knew she shouldn't waste energy and calories on being upset. (I'm still surprised they let us take her home being only 4 pounds and some change.) So rather than having an upset baby (and mama) she would then be handed over to dad/grammy/aunts to be syringe/bottle fed. She was so tiny that all she wanted to do was sleep. We had to undress her and tickle her feet just to keep her awake to eat. CG on the other hand was a nursing champ. Her latch never hurt and she was happy as a clam when she was eating. So when people tell you nursing shouldn't/doesn't hurt they're right and they're wrong. I experienced both at the same time. Each baby and each mom is different.

When we started out I either nursed them separately or used the twin Brestfriend to tandem nurse. By two months, we could nurse whenever, wherever, double cradle, double football, one cradle/one football, however. We were nursing all-stars. {And we should have been since that was  the.only.thing we did those first two months.} But I truly loved it.

My goal was to make it to a year breastfeeding the girls. And then the day before they turned one, CG ended up in the ER with a mysterious 105 degree temperature. Keep nursing her, they said. Then it was flu season. So we nursed through flu season. And then, honestly, none of us really wanted to give it up. And then I got pregnant and just a few days shy of 18 months I nursed the girls for the last time. I don't even really remember the last time. I know it was at night before bed because that was the only time they were nursing by that point. I didn't know the last time was the 'last time' and I'm kind of glad for that. Grammy and their Auntie Dionne put them to bed one night without me there and we just never nursed again after that. {Although, CG asked a few times after that. Not surprisingly, Lo was much more ready to be done.}

I'm so thankful for the experience we had. After that first month it became a truly enjoyable, peaceful time for all three of us. {Until the point where it became nursing gymnastics and so silly. But it became peaceful again after that, thank goodness.} I could go on and on about the benefits for the girls, for me, about supply, about pumping, about blocked milk ducts, about weaning, etc. But mostly, I hope this encourages someone to keep at it. Do what you have to do to keep that baby alive but keep trying. I'm so glad I didn't give up on nursing Lo when it seemed we would never get it. I don't feel one bit guilty that we had to supplement to get her where she needed to be. The experience I had nursing her and her sister is priceless...worth every moment where we pressed on until it clicked.

Keep at it, girl. You can do it. If we can, you can. But if you find you need to make a different decision for you and your baby, you still get a high five.

 Also, I would like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize to those who saw way too much of me in the last (almost) two years. Sometimes when there are two hungry, frantic babies you lose all sense of modesty and you don't care who sees what or who is handing you baby A or baby B as you unsnap your nursing tank in complete disregard for discretion and decency. I'll do better this time. Promise.