Go ahead, ask me why I?m not breastfeeding
It was 3:20 a.m. and, right on schedule, my five-day-old daughter was wailing in hunger. (It was like clock-work: Every two hours Elaysia-Grace was starving.) Also right on cue, as soon as I heard her cry, milk starting leaking from my breasts. Rushing to make her a bottle with formula, huge wet patches appeared on my over-sized t-shirt. I felt terrible that my milk was going to waste, but I didn?t have time to cry?my baby was waiting. Shaking the formula to dissolve in the bottle, I tried to ignore my body?s response.
As mothers, we?re built to give our babies all the nutrition they need. Breastfeeding your child is the biological norm. It?s what I did with two of her older siblings. When you can?t provide this because your child could be at harm from the food you produce, it?s heart-wrenching. Just five days in, it felt like I was failing. The formula was streaming out too fast from the bottle and Elaysia-Grace kept choking. If only I was able to breastfeed, she wouldn?t be having this problem. I felt even guiltier. I needed to do whatever I could to make it easier on her?and me. So, at 4 a.m., I left Elaysia-Grace with her father and rushed out to the 24-hour grocery store to find another bottle. I was in in full mama-mode?my baby needed help?but my body ached with exhaustion. I stopped at the coffee drive-through.Â
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