Pediatricians. The First Weight Check. A Formula Ultimatum.
My husband and I were at the first pediatrician appointment with our first baby - the big weight check. I put her on the scale and held my breath.
The ounces fell short.
We were told that if she didn't gain back her birthweight by the end of the week, we would "have to switch to formula."
I felt like I'd gotten punched in the gut.
It was a sick feeling, the feeling that I was failing. That I couldn't be what my baby needed. How could that be the case, when I was her mother? This was the most ancient, basic human thing. It should come naturally, right?
Ha.
It definitely came naturally by the time I was on my third baby. I remember being in the hospital bed and the lactation consultant peeking in and then leaving me to it, saying, "You should stay and help everyone else!" But that first time? No way.
The odd thing was, our pediatrician was the nicest guy. He listened a lot and nodded along. He had this aura of gentleness that made us just want to spill him every experience we'd had with Lena. But he just didn't know a lot about breastfeeding, and neither did I. I remember saying I'd been eating three eggs in the morning instead of two. I was getting the extra calories - why wasn't she?
He explained formula was "like a protein shake for babies." I remember thinking, damn, if that's the case, should they really be having that as their sole food source? But I was so upset with myself, I could barely speak, let alone get into a discussion about formula versus breastmilk.
He offered to have me talk to a lactation consultant. But it was presented as an option. I felt like, oh, there must be something wrong with me. Wow, she can't do this, she needs to go talk to a lactation consultant. Now, three babies later, I would say, sweet, thank you!! But then it felt like, I don't know, similar to the way I've seen parents of my students react when I was teaching and we told them their kid might have a learning disability.
The ounces fell short.
We were told that if she didn't gain back her birthweight by the end of the week, we would "have to switch to formula."
I felt like I'd gotten punched in the gut.
It was a sick feeling, the feeling that I was failing. That I couldn't be what my baby needed. How could that be the case, when I was her mother? This was the most ancient, basic human thing. It should come naturally, right?
Ha.
It definitely came naturally by the time I was on my third baby. I remember being in the hospital bed and the lactation consultant peeking in and then leaving me to it, saying, "You should stay and help everyone else!" But that first time? No way.
The odd thing was, our pediatrician was the nicest guy. He listened a lot and nodded along. He had this aura of gentleness that made us just want to spill him every experience we'd had with Lena. But he just didn't know a lot about breastfeeding, and neither did I. I remember saying I'd been eating three eggs in the morning instead of two. I was getting the extra calories - why wasn't she?
He explained formula was "like a protein shake for babies." I remember thinking, damn, if that's the case, should they really be having that as their sole food source? But I was so upset with myself, I could barely speak, let alone get into a discussion about formula versus breastmilk.
He offered to have me talk to a lactation consultant. But it was presented as an option. I felt like, oh, there must be something wrong with me. Wow, she can't do this, she needs to go talk to a lactation consultant. Now, three babies later, I would say, sweet, thank you!! But then it felt like, I don't know, similar to the way I've seen parents of my students react when I was teaching and we told them their kid might have a learning disability.
