Yup, you read that right. I’m a formula-feeding mother. I can’t say I’m proud of it, but neither am I apologetic about it.
When I was only 12 weeks pregnant, I bought my Medela Freestyle breastpump. When I was 20 weeks pregnant, I bought boxes of breast pads. When I was 32 weeks pregnant, I called a professional mid-wife for a home visit and a one-on-one guide to breastfeeding. We agreed that she’d come visit me when I’m 35 weeks, just before I hit full term.
Then my water broke. My daughter was born at 34 weeks and six days via emergency c-section. She spent three days in the neonatal intensive care unit and a couple more in the nursery before we were sent home. She was 1.88 kg. The pediatrician discharged her under the condition that she continued to gain weight and thrive.
Under immense pressure, the militant mother in me immediately set to work. I recorded every drop she drank, woke up at 3am to pump, and armed myself with a stack of Medela feeding cups since I supplemented my feeds with formula. I didn’t use milk bottles because it could cause nipple confusion. Or so I was told.
A midwife visited me every alternate day to check my baby’s progress and weight. Every visit ended in tears because my milk supply wasn’t up and neither was my daughter’s weight. At the brink of a nervous breakdown, I turned to a lactation consultation who advised me to try spoon-feeding. That was when I knew I had enough of advice and opinions. I was just going to go with what I felt was best for my baby and me.
So I went out to buy her first milk bottle. As if to add insult to injury, the milk bottle box came with a warning sticker, kind of like those warnings on the cigarette box: MILK BOTTLES COULD CAUSE NIPPLE CONFUSION. MOTHER’S MILK IS BEST. Ridden with guilt, but at my wits end, I gave her the bottle. Within days, she gained weight.
Then I thought that it would be a good time to do away with the formula. I started direct latching more and pumping even more frequently. Although this meant that I was feeding her almost every hour, I told myself it would get better.
I did everything by the book. When I pumped, I would try to relax. I’d think good thoughts, happy thoughts, positive thoughts. I’d think about my baby and look at her picture. I drank oat milk, took what felt like half a bottle of fenugreek daily, massaged, and did compression. I wouldn’t peek at the bottle when I was pumping so that I wouldn’t feel pressured and instead, perhaps be pleasantly surprised. That never worked.
After about a week of trying, I found myself on the verge of yet another breastfeeding meltdown. I called my husband who was at work to tell him that I hated motherhood and I was walking out! I couldn’t accept that this was turning out to be a failure. I thought I was prepared for breastfeeding. I bought all the equipment and read the books but no one or no book tells you how challenging breastfeeding can be. When I was expecting, all I heard and read was that breastfeeding would come naturally. So, I took the whole process for granted and now it was robbing me of the joys of motherhood.
After I finally calmed down, I started topping up my daughter’s feed with formula again. I also stopped worrying about pumping and just did it whenever I could. A month later she was completely on formula. She was three months old at that time and I was a happy, well-rested mom. As the story goes, we lived happily after.
It wasn’t an easy decision to give my baby formula and unfortunately, it was a decision not made easier by some mothers. I had to remove myself from the breastfeeding groups that seemed to belittle or bully mothers who have decided not to or can’t breastfeed. Giving up breastfeeding may not be the best or the right decision for most mothers, but it certainly was right for me.
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Yin Peng is struggling to accept that she can’t be it all – a super mother, super wife and super woman. She tries to take things a day at a time and does so in a pair of comfy flats.
Image Credit: Flickr user Bigpresh
