Human milk: the basics.

Maybe it’s because a higher than average amount of people have asked my advice on this lately, or maybe it’s the mummy wars that periodically surge up splashing their negativity into my happy place, but for whatever reason breastfeeding has been on my mind and I want to share some of those thoughts with you because the level of general education on this subject (hell, one could say on nutrition in general) is abominable.

Let me preface this by saying that I’m not judging your choices. If you are happy with the way you feed your baby, cool. If you’re happy I’m happy. But if you’re keen to do this breastfeeding thing and succeed, it’s worth reading and talking about. I’m a big fan of breastfeeding but that doesn’t mean you are a bag of dicks if for some reason you can’t do it. Please, don’t bother to take this article, or any shit you read on the internet, as a personal attack. Cool? Right then, let’s get on with it.

Before I began my breastfeeding journey a well-meaning friend shared a parenting article with me titled “No, breast is not best,” or something equally inflammatory. I read it and agreed wholeheartedly. Breast milk isn’t “best.”

Let me tell you what breast milk is: Breast milk, or human milk as I like to think of it, is nature’s standard. It isn’t top shelf. It’s not the corvette shitting over your family sedan. It isn’t this high and mighty unattainable lofty goal. It’s standard. Normal. Baseline. You’re not going above and beyond giving this to your baby. You’re not a better mother because you breastfeed. Human milk is what nature intended human babies to ingest, plain and simple. And if human milk is standard anything else is sub-standard.

This isn’t about some mothers being absolute rock-stars that can do this nearly impossible miraculous breastfeeding thing and the rest of us every-day normal mums are stuck with formula. No. Even the cans of formula will tell you that breastmilk is what your baby is designed to consume. It’s right there on the back of the pack.

Again, I’m not here to shame formula mums. You can take your mummy wars and your pity parties and shove them up your dimpled behinds because I’m not playing this game. You know what? Two out of three of my children have had formula, particularly Artemis, because even though I knew better there’s something about massive sleep deprivation that impairs your judgement and makes you desperate. The big “pro” everyone sells you about formula is that it will make your baby sleep better because it’s harder to digest. I’m sure this actually works for some babies otherwise they wouldn’t keep saying it, but for my family this was a crock of fucking shit. Maybe Artemis slept an extra hour on the formula than she did on the human milk (I only formula fed a bottle or two a day to begin with) but it sure as hell didn’t decrease the amount of screaming or give me noticeable respite.

Sadly, bottle feeding is like a gateway drug. Every bottle you give your baby undermines your long term breastfeeding efforts. This is the naked truth. If you give any shits about breastfeeding long term don’t even buy formula to have in the house “just in case”. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot and give yourself that easy out, trust me on this.

I admit, giving Artemis the bottle did have one advantage over breast, but it wasn’t better sleep. It was the bonding. I found it much easier to bond with her while feeding her a bottle. Bottle teats don’t have nerves and they don’t bleed. They don’t feel rejected if you push them away. For me in the throes of PND that was comforting. Sadly it did not take long for me to notice the difference between Arty’s immune system and Bast’s much stronger defenses and when my milk dried up because I was feeding too many bottles and cut what breastfeeding relationship Artemis and I did have short I was devastated. The guilt was a very real thing. So real that the moment my milk came in after Elen’s birth I binned the formula and pumped the rest of Arty’s milk feeds until she reached two years old.

The research in favour of breastfeeding is overwhelming but one of the things I love about it is that your boob can sense what the child suckling on it needs. Okay, sense isn’t the right word, but it sounds nicer than “baby spit penetrates your nipple and programs what kind of latte comes out”. Every drop is tailor made specifically for your baby and their host of gut flora. Just. Like. Magic.

Oh but breastfeeding is hard. Yes, I know it is. It’s a learned skill. Some babies pop out, do “the crawl” and latch right away. Other babies don’t seem to know what the breast does and just want to sleep. Some babies have tongue or lip ties. Some women have funky nipples. Some women legitimately can’t breastfeed while many more could but never got the help and support to do so successfully. Some women are doing a great job at breastfeeding but are then undermined so badly by family or even their doctors that they give it all up. Yep, I said doctors there. Lo and behold, just because someone went to medical school doesn’t mean they have any more knowledge on breastfeeding than regular Joe – that’s why we have lactation consultants.

For example: Bast’s doctor encouraged me to begin formula at her 6 month check-up because her percentiles had dropped. It was a big drop, big enough for me to be alarmed too, but not once did he ask me about factors that might have influenced the change. He didn’t talk to me about what solids I may or may not have started her on, or if I’d kept a food diary or tracked her intake in other ways. It turned out her loss had nothing to do with the quality of my milk, and a lot to do with the stressful month-long international holiday we’d just returned from. Once we were back home with a regular schedule her curve recommenced and she continued to meet milestones and gain weight; but his first and only assumption was that breastfeeding was the problem.

Luckily he didn’t suggest it at the four month sleep regression mark, because I probably would have changed over without thinking twice. I remember being in the baby aisle at Woolies with Deer Hart and asking him if maybe we should pick up some formula. Bast got her first tooth at 3m3w and she was using it on me with wild abandon. I didn’t know there was such a thing as sleep regression at this stage and was feeling pretty sorry for myself. Of course Deer Hart gave me a resounding, solid, NO and that was that. Like my midwife loved to tell me: the key to a woman successfully breastfeeding is the support of her partner.

It’s not just the teeth that make breastfeeding hard either. The first two weeks with each child was agony. I got blisters on my blisters and they would burst and weep. I got cracks. I got nipples stretched as long as my pinky. I would gasp at each new latch, desperately trying not to pull away or holler and upset the baby. Sometimes I would cry, not just because nipples of firey burning doom, but also because of the after-pains.

After-pain is the joy of your uterus shrinking back and all your other abused baby-producing parts repairing themselves. When the baby drinks, hormones flood your system which in turn produces contractions that the mother feels as debilitating cramps. And after-pain gets progressively more violent with each successive birth. Joy of joys.

It’s little wonder that the bulk of women who leave hospital intending to breastfeed have thrown in the town by six weeks, because the first two weeks can be excruciating. Maybe other mums don’t have this painful transition, but I sure as hell did, and with my second and third babies the only thing that got me through was knowing it would get easier in week three.

“But I don’t make enough milk, my baby is always hungry.” Listen friend, your baby is supposed to be always hungry. Your baby has a tiny little stomach, about the size of a walnut on day three, if I remember correctly. Babies need to eat pretty much constantly. Yes that dribble of colostrum you produce in the first few days doesn’t seem like it would nourish an ant, but it is a power house of protective magic.

When Elen was born she latched like a champion. I was experienced and she was nearly two weeks past her EDD; that’s a recipe for success right there! After that initial latch she fed non-stop for five hours – longer than it took me to bring her into the world! It didn’t matter to her that I was covered in blood and goo and desperately wanted a shower – babies don’t judge you for your B.O, they just want to eat. FIVE HOURS my friends. It was a bad day to be a nipple. From there she went on to have a normal feeding routine which looks a lot like starving to death if no one warns you.

A normal healthy newborn will feed every two hours – that is two hours from the start of one feed to the start of the next – with each feed lasting half an hour to forty five minutes. Some babies eat even slower than this. They all eventually become more efficient, but for the first four months or so expect to sit on your arse and feed for roughly half of every day (and night.) You may also find your baby cluster-feeds in the early evening (mine always did this directly after witching hour). This is normal. This is standard. This is why new mums lose their phones in their hands and sometimes appear to be drunk. Exhausted looks a lot like wasted. But as a new mum your one job is to nourish this tiny beast you just created, so plan for it and set yourself up for success. (Planning also includes how to have the needs of any older children met while you breastfeed for twelve hours a day.)

So how do you know if your baby is getting enough milk? Look at their nappies. If they are still making 5-8 wet nappies in 24 hours and they are gaining weight, you’re golden. If they are doing an inordinate amount of screaming (I read the average baby cries for a total of three hours out of every twenty four so I’ve always used that as my guide,) or you sense something is amiss look at all the things that could be effecting your baby. Are they having a developmental leap? (The Wonder Weeks has an app for easy checking.) Are they unsettled at the same time every day? (Witching) Did your baby used to be peaceful but turned into a raging demon that never sleeps? (Could it be the four month sleep regression?) Could it be a problem with your child’s over-all routine? (Missed sleepy-queues, staying up too late, sloppy bedtime routine,) Or even something in the mum’s diet that disagrees with the baby (Too much coffee, animal proteins or even alcohol?) I’m not saying it’s never the milk. Sometimes it is! But there’s a lot of other things it could also be that should be looked into before breastfeeding is given the flick.

This is one terribly long ramble, and a subject that I’m likely to revisit time and again, but before I sign out I want to make something very clear: You, fellow mother, are enough. You are making the best choices you can with the information and support you have available. Sometimes the choice isn’t easy or clear cut. Sometimes you feel powerless. Sometimes you will look back and wish you chose differently, other times you’ll wish you chose faster. No matter the case, you are the best mum for your baby and you’re doing a great job. Just look into your child’s eyes and see the utter adoration there! You’ve got this and you’re doing great: formula, human milk or mix feeding. No matter what you tell yourself or what the haters say to you – You’re awesome and I believe in you. I might be a breastfeeding advocate, but I’ve got your back regardless, and if you want to talk you’ve got my ear too. xx