My short lived experience with breast feeding ended in the hospital after, even the midwives couldn’t get my stubborn Gremlin to latch and eat.
Roughly a month after O was born we took our first trip to the Hospital. Our local maternity unit was very empty, with the lack of doctors on the ward, everyone was going to Glangwili to give birth. Meaning Withybushs brand new, beautiful, fully equipped modern rooms were being left empty. They had soothing, coloured lighting. Single en suit rooms and most importantly, time.
Our first visit was due to O’s stubborn resistance to breast feed. Withybush had specialist midwives who were willing to help and teach me how to get O to latch on properly. So, in we went for a night, 1pm to 12am the next day.
Richard was stuck at home being ill 😷, so it was all down to me. I was made so welcome and comfortable, never did they make me feel like a useless first time mama for needing help with feeding my son. My mum and youngest sister came to visit me and keep me company and I even had hot meals made for me. It felt like a bit of a holiday if I’m honest, with us both being looked after well, with occasional visits from a midwife at feeding time. Although it sounds more like I was some attraction at a zoo.
It wasn’t long until night time arrived though. O fell asleep quickly and I was left in peace to watch some television until I began to drift off myself. I never got as far as actually falling asleep completely, baby O loudly reminded me it was time to try and feed him again though. In my arms he was, the midwives fussing and prodding, trying to get him to latch and feed properly. They continuously told me not to over do myself and that, should I need a break, the midwives were more than happy to have O in their staff room for however long was needed. I think they just wanted someone to cuddle and coo over, not to mention, keep them awake during their rather quite night shift. Believe me when I say, after being woken three times and my seizures already taking over my hands, I jumped at the opportunity and the offer.
Dont judge, everyone needs help and a break now and again. I was just lucky enough to have the chance to do so. The Myo seizures had already caused tears to come meandering down my cheeks by this point, the last thing I needed to do was add to it by allowing my Epilepsy the chance to hurt my Gremlin. It turned out to be the right decision, and I knew it would be, no matter what anyone else though. By the morning my seizures had had the chance to clam themselves down and I wa Amy normal self again, the mama that could hold her son rather than the mama that had to relent to her Epilepsy.
After the eventful night, it turned out O just didn’t like breast feeding and he was changed over to bottles. It was his decision, and even now, at the age of 2, he still enjoys a bed time bottle. Everything happens for a reason, I suppose this did too. Perhaps because, with bottles Rich can do his share of night feeds too, (most of them if I’m totally honest). Or maybe, because of O’s independence. Since he was around four months old we have been able to just hand a half asleep winge bag a bottle, so he can feed himself as he drift back off to sleep.
Despite, originally, wanting to breast feed O, I feel it worked out for the best too. He must have felt safer with his bottles, seen as my seizures have done nothing but continue over the last two years (and worsen in some cases).
We’ve had it easy with O really, even if it hasn’t seemed that way most the time. Not to us anyway.