Briston's Story
From the time I found out I was pregnant the first time, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. I was due December 6th, 2009. At my appointment that day, my doctor checked me and told me that I was still completely closed, and we made an appointment for the 9th. When we went in that day, I had been up all night, uncomfortable and HATING that I was still pregnant. I wasn't feeling great so I didn't eat before going. My doctor decided to run a non-stress test on the baby. They put me in a small room with a monitor, where I had to hold a little remote and push a button every time I felt her move. At this time of day, I knew I wouldn't get many kicks, and not eating before made it even less likely. I told them this, and they offered me some juice and graham crackers. My doctor wasn't satisfied by Briston's lack of movement, so he sent me off for an induction. I was so happy that it would finally be over! My labor was fairly quick and uneventful. it was only 8 hours long, and my baby was born at 11:30 pm. She was happy, healthy, and a great nurser from the start.
My only complaint was that they would come in, and take my baby when I was sleeping. I didn't know how long she had been gone when I got up. They were giving her formula every time they would take her, even though I stressed to them that I wished to breastfeed. They would tell me things like "She must still be hungry because she is rooting" and "Don't be afraid to supplement." "Nipple confusion is a myth." and the very worst "Since you just have colostrum, giving her formula now won't hurt your supply." These were NURSES, and I was 18 years old! I had no idea that they were feeding me lies and sabotaging my breastfeeding relationship with my daughter. Briston just got lazier and lazier, and had trouble latching from all the bottles. I look back now, and wish I would have refused them, told them to leave my baby alone, and let us do what nature intended us to do. I don't know if it would have mattered, they did it anyway with my second baby. The night after we got home, Briston cried and cried. She was hungry. Those nurses had overfilled her with formula, and ruined everything. After hours of fighting her to try and get her to take the breast and sleep, my husband gave her a bottle, and she slept 6 hours. The crying had exhausted us, and I still cried for a good hour after. I felt worthless that I couldn't do the most natural thing in the world. That I couldn't feed my baby. We tried for 2 months, she would latch but was very lazy about it, and would fall asleep without filling herself. She would wake up mad, and the fight would begin again. At about 2 months old, we started supplementing Briston with formula. We were living in the family room of my father-in-law's trailer. His 2 brothers lived there also, so my daughter and I were the only girls in the house! This made me very uncomfortable, and pumping was a nightmare. It was not a very breast-friendly place to be.
I regret the decision I made at that time to stop breastfeeding Briston. I regretted it every day, and even tried to go back, but by then Briston loved her bottle. It was easy, and faster and she was fuller longer. My supply had dropped so low, and she wanted nothing to do with it. After she started full on rejecting the breast, I gave up completely. Things were fine, and she remained happy and healthy, but I never stopped regretting it. I felt robbed of that extra special relationship.
Oaklie's Story!
November 2012. I found out I was pregnant again! We were much more stable, Briston was nearly 3 by then. Again I was determined to breastfeed this baby. I drowned myself in research, and never stopped learning about what I should do, and how I could encourage my baby and myself to stick with it this time. My little family moved into our own apartment about halfway through my pregnancy, and things were going very well. I went into labor July 11th 2013 at 3 am. My baby was born at 11:30 am, after a very easy and uneventful labor and delivery. Her name was Oaklie, she was perfect and amazing, and looked just like her big sister! Unfortunately, her big sister didn't even get to meet her until much later in the day. They whisked Oaklie away from us mere minutes after she was born. There seemed to be nothing wrong with her, she nursed well that first time, and her apgar was perfect.
They told us they were taking her to run tests and let her daddy give her a bath. About 20 minutes later, a nurse entered and told us that Oaklie's blood sugar was "a little low", and asked permission to give her a bottle. I declined, telling her that if Oaklie was hungry she could bring her back to nurse some more. The nurse then told me that if I declined the bottle, they would have to give her IV fluids to get the sugar up. I was livid, but finally agreed to let them give her a bottle. By then I was moved into my room, and there I waited for my baby. My husband was in and out of the room, they had finally let him give her the bath, and told him how to get in and out of the nursery to see her. Every time he came back in, I asked him what was going on. He would shake his head, or tell me he didn't know why they would not bring her back to me. I would ask every nurse what the problem was, they told me there was nothing wrong, I would have my baby soon. After a few hours I could walk again, and the first place I walked to was that nursery. I knocked, they let me in and let me hold my darling baby girl. I asked if I could nurse her, they told me that they were not allowing her to eat at that point. The on-call pediatrician then introduced himself to me, and I hated him from the moment I saw him. He had an air about him that put my gaurd 10 feet tall. I did not want him interacting with my baby, but I had no choice. He told me that Oaklie had a problem with her heart, and they were keeping her on the monitor to make sure she was okay. He wouldn't tell me anything else, and started sending Echo results to Primary Children's hospital to have them offer their opinion on her. They sent him reports that said her heart was normal, and the arrhythmia would resolve on it's own. He continued to insist on sending more and more echo results, and recieved the "Normal" diagnosis every time. FINALLY, after something like 6 hours they let my baby come back into my room, and Briston was able to meet her baby sister.
But it wasn't over yet. They told me that she could stay with me "for now" but they would be taking her back for testing through the night. I finally settled down to sleep around midnight, and by the time I woke up, my baby was gone again and the horrible pediatrician was calling me on my room phone to tell me that my baby's oxygen had mysteriously dropped in the night, and she would be staying in the NICU.
Now, I really think that was a total lie to be honest. I don't think this happened. When I asked to see the record, they told me they didn't keep it. Whatever. They came in with Oaklie so we could follow her to the NICU. There, I was allowed to come in when I pleased, nurse, whatever. It seemed fine, they told me they would call me on my room phone so I could rest and feed Oaklie when she was hungry. They did, a couple times. My ob was walking through the NICU at one point, saw me, and asked why I was there. I explained that Oaklie was in there, and when he asked me why, I didn't have an answer so he turned to our nurse. She told him that she was there for a suspected infection. My doctor seemed confused and asked me if my water had broken long before she came, and then answered himself. "No, I broke your water like 20 minutes before she came." He seemed confused, and that's when I got really mad. I told the nurse I wanted to speak to the NICU pediatrician as soon as he was available. She promised she would call when he got in, and she did. He told me that they had run a chest x-ray on Oaklie, and that she had "slight cloudiness" in her lungs. There was no infection, but they "just wanted to be careful and sure before sending her home." He told me it would be 5 to 7 days. Those 7 days had to be some of the worst in my life.
I drove to the hospital every 2 hours almost the whole time. I would tell the nurse that she needed to call me when Oaklie woke up, and they almost never did. I decided to start going in on my own every 2 hours, and at least half the time they were getting ready to put a bottle in her mouth. I thank my lucky stars every day that she wasn't premature. I don't know how parents go through that for longer then I did. It's pure hell.
My mother had taken time off to watch Briston for me while I was having the baby. My poor big girl was absolutely traumatized by this experience. She had nightmares, and told my mom in tears that her dad and I were never coming to get her, and that her baby sister had died. She believed that her sister was dead. I was so torn on weather I would go try to maintain my relationship with Oaklie or go assure Briston that her sister was fine, and mom and dad weren't going anywhere. I think that was the worst part of the whole experience. Thankfully, my dad called me the Sunday after Oaklie was born, and asked if he could take her camping with the rest of my family. I agreed and she had a wonderful time.
Finally after so long, we were able to take my baby home, and she has had absolutely no issues since.
So, in the event we decide to have more children, we will be doing so in a birthing center, or in the comfort of my own home. This whole ordeal has led me to hate hospitals.
Any mommies that have had children in the NICU, I may have only felt a fraction of the pain you feel, for instance if your baby was there for a very long time, or sick. You mommies are in my thoughts, and for the most part it does get better. I am very thankful for the technology these days, that help save lives, and for the doctors and nurses that actually care for their patients, and not just about the check they get at the end of the week. I'm happy to answer any questions anyone may have, and I am a good listener if you just need to vent.
Sweet Dreams.
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