From Steph Monty, from her blog article called "Insufficient"

Steph — July 30, 2014

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When I was pregnant with my first child (my daughter), I literally had no idea what I was getting myself into. And please trust me when I say that I don’t use the word literally when I really mean figuratively. I had the confidence of ignorance. An image in my head of an ideal – an ideal birth, an ideal child, ideal parenting…perfection, based on a set of unfair and largely unachievable expectations. Hopes, dreams, plans. I often say that parenthood is 100% different than I thought it would be; both 100% better and 100% more challenging.

What happens when our hopes and plans are replaced with a reality that is less than ideal and less than perfect? And what happens when the other parents we know put up a front of perfection and shame those who parent differently or are unable to achieve the ideal?

Confusion. Guilt. Shame. Feelings of inadequacy. Feeling less than.

If you are lucky, you adapt, you ignore the mean people on the internet, you move on, you adjust your expectations to reflect reality and surround yourself with imperfect, snarky supporters (people, you know who you are). You still feel shame, fear and inadequacy, but you allow yourself to also feel tremendous joy, love and fulfillment.

Shortly after my second child (my son) was born, I was diagnosed with Insufficient Glandular Tissue (IGT). Basically, I didn’t have enough of the right kind of breast tissue necessary to produce enough milk for my babies. Depending on who you ask within the lactation field, this condition impacts less than 1% or as many as 5% of women. Probably more, as many women choose formula from the start or give up breastfeeding without a diagnosis. I have always wanted to be special (kidding). I find it ironic that the name of this condition matched how it made me feel – insufficient.

In a way that diagnosis was also freeing. I wish I had been diagnosed with it when my daughter was a newborn. I finally knew what was wrong with me. I could finally let go of some of the stress and shame.

After my daughter was born, I wasn’t able to produce enough breast milk. She had to go to the NICU for weight loss (20% of her birth weight), dehydration and jaundice. With formula supplements, she quickly started gaining and became a healthy, beautiful baby. However, my life became about feeding her. Each breastfeeding session took an hour – filling the supplemental nursing system (a bottle with a tube to feed her at my breast), getting her to latch, inserting the tiny tube and then switching sides. After each feeding, I pumped. And then a little while later, we started again. I took several herbal supplements and a prescription drug for which I paid about $200 a month from a compounding pharmacy. My midwife would only prescribe two months’ supply. My life became feeding baby K and building my supply. I ate all of the foods reputed to boost supply, drank my weight in water and tried to get enough sleep... See article at http://groundedparents.com/2014/07/30/insufficient/

From Maria Mijala Darin-Baclohan posted on Facebook

I'm a first time mom of a five-month old baby girl. Unlike most women do, milk did not came out after giving birth. There was constant crying and the baby was struggling just to get some milk. My mom and husband Joel Baclohan told me to give formula but I refused because I was told to just keep the baby suck my breast because milk will eventually come out. Two days later, we were discharged from the hospital. The following day we immediately rushed back to the hospital because the baby had a fever. We were so nervous back then because how come a three-day old baby have fever? She is our first baby and we can't afford to put her life in great danger. When we were in the hospital tests were done and results were normal. Doctor said baby might be dehydrated because I don't have enough milk yet. So that's the time we gave formula. At first I feel guilty and I feel incapable and fail as a mother because I can't breastfeed her. Ever since I always wanted to breastfeed my baby, it's just that supply isn't enough for my baby. Now I feel relieved knowing that there can be adverse effect on a child`s brain through prolonged starvation. I'm a mother and I can't compromise my baby's safety that's why I can say I did the right thing in feeding her formula milk. It may not be the best milk for her to grow healthy and strong, but it's the best milk for her to live and do away with brain damage or any damage starvation may have caused her. I salute all the mothers who breastfeed their baby, and I have great respect and I praise those mothers out there who, like me, are brave and courageous enough to put down their pride and choose to feed their baby with formula. I did not gave up breastfeeding but I gave up seeing my baby starving. I don't care anymore of my pride, all I care is for my baby to be fed well. My baby just turned 5 months and day by day, she grows to be healthy, strong, smart and a happy baby. And it's all that matters to me.

From Jamie Quintain-Good from her Blog

Things I Learned About Formula-Feeding Moms From My Breastfeeding Journey August 2, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — dyaymee @ 3:14 am
Tags: out-of-the-ocean

We were expecting Bradley Boy to come out anytime between Christmas and New Year last year, but God knew how much we wanted to hold and kiss him, so He sent him out a little early. One month early. He was born 36 weeks and 5 days. And between the house moving (which by the way coincided perfectly with my nesting! think oc-ness to the top!) and planning for his arrival, thinking I still had a month to prepare, we were absolutely not ready when he came out.

His clothes were not washed.  His crib and car seat were not out. My hospital bag wasn’t ready. I thought I still had a month to get all those done.  Everything else was not ready, but I knew there was one thing I was ready for. One thing I dreamed about night and day, one thing I talked to my husband incessantly about, one thing I knew I would do no matter what. I will give him the best and nothing less. I will BREASTFEED. 

So, I didn’t buy him bottles, sterilizers, bottle cleaners, pacifiers. Heck, I didn’t even buy my breast pump. Because I was set out to be a hardcore exclusively breastfeeding mom.

Then, it was time. It was time to hold him in my arms and nurse him for the first time. I couldn’t put a tab on my emotions because there I was, about to give my helpless newborn everything his tiny body needed, and all he needed and wanted was me. It was a beautiful rush. Up until I realized no milk was coming out. He wasn’t getting anything out. I panicked a little, but he would spend so much time sleeping that the first few hours didn’t bother me.

Then, the nurse came in to see how he was feeding. I was told he had to be able to have milk because his blood sugar was low, and it was urgent that he fed to raise it to a safe level. Now, I panicked a lot. We received donor milk just to raise his blood sugar, but it hurt that it did not come from me. I was supposed to be Bradley’s super hero with magic milk for him. But, I did not deliver. I was hormonal, but it really got me down in a way I knew that was beyond hormones.

But well, either I receive donor milk or give him formula. I wasn’t ready to introduce my tiny baby with a tiny tummy to the evils of formula milk. So, we continued to receive donor milk until his blood sugar was finally fine.

Bradley Boy’s first night at home

Now, the real battle began. We took Bradley Boy home and no donor milk anywhere. I needed to produce milk ASAP. I wasn’t only crying, but wailing like a little girl lost in a mall. My mother and mother-in-law thought the best decision would be to give formula because they both gave Brian and me formula and we turned  out ok. But, I couldn’t do it. I’ve read this type. Well-meaning older gen moms would wonder why you wouldn’t supplement with formula because they did, and all their kids turned out fine. Formula was such a trend when we were babies. So, I called for reinforcement. I called our childbirth prep class teacher, and I cried on the phone asking her if Bradley would be fine because I couldn’t give him milk. She reassured me my milk will come in soon, just as long as I let him latch, and just continue to nurse him. Our neighbor  taught me the breast massage to coax the milk to come out, and well to relax me because milk doesn’t come out of a stressed momma. Again, she told me I will be fine and that milk doesn’t really come in right away. When she was a new mom, her milk came in after 4 days, and her little boy  is now a smart, healthy exclusively breastfed 4 year old.  I called my sister-in-law and she told me, that on her fourth baby, her milk came in after 3 days. But, she didn’t panic because she had panicked enough on her first child, and that what I was going through was completely normal. Just continue letting Bradley latch, she said. I called my other sister-in-law, she tried to breastfeed but ended up supplementing with formula, and she said if there was one thing she could do over, she would’ve continued nursing. She didn’t want me to regret any decision I made then because one little move could change our breastfeeding journey forever. 

So, after a rough first night, Brian and I decided we were getting up with a united front.

We will fight tooth and nail to give our little Bradley the best kind of milk there is: breast milk. 

So, my milk did eventually come in after a few days. I was a blissful nursing mom. But, then Bradley would still sleep most of the time so I thought he was getting what he needed.

Then we noticed he was nursing for hours on one breast and either he cried afterwards seemingly unsatisfied or he would just fall asleep. I asked if it was normal that he nursed for so long, and they said he must be going through a growth spurt, and that he was hungrier than usual.  Then, he was still yellow and he probably got a little sunburnt because we made sure he got enough sun to get rid of his jaundice. He wasn’t getting the bilirubin out of his system. His poop was still green and never turned yellow as it should. It could have been from a foremilk-hindmilk imbalance so I nursed him longer on each breast instead of switching too soon.

Then, his weight began to drop. We lost his chipmunk cheeks and he looked like a wrinkly old man when he cried. His birth weight was 2.8 kilos, and after a month, he weighed 2.2 kilos. It crushed me. I held him in my arms that night, locked our bedroom door, and cried out to God. I was asking Mama Mary mom to mom, to please intercede for Bradley, to help us find out what to do.

Bradley on his first month birthday and baptism weight dropping at 2.2 kilos

Ate Karen, who just gave birth to my godson Inigo then, had her milk come in too. So, she came to see Bradley everyday, and let him nurse for as long as he wanted. Surprisingly, I noticed he had no trouble latching on to her as he did with me. And Inigo, on the other hand, latched on to me like a pro. We seemed like we were anatomically incompatible, breastfeeding-wise. I also noticed Bradley seemed satisfied about less than half the time than when he nursed from me. He seemed like he was taking in more in a lesser amount of time.  His Ninang Karen came to visit him everyday so he was back to his birth weight of 2.8 kilos after a week.

We brought him to the doctor, and when I was asked about his feeding, I told him we struggled to latch, but we do manage to continue nursing. He was on my breast for hours so I thought we were safe to assume he was nursing well. He was diagnosed with FAILURE TO THRIVE. Failure to thrive. My heart sank. Those three words told me that his superhero with the magic milk was failing him. My breasts were supposed to give him everything he needed, but here he was 4 weeks into the world, already failing to thrive. My heart couldn’t stop breaking.

 Bradley Boy got admitted to the hospital for 3 days, constant tests, blood work, monitoring, and his tiny foot had an IV drip lodged into it.

Bradley Boy slowly regaining back his weight at the hospital

Every time he cried when they took blood out or put in his dextrose, my heart bled because it was my fault he was failing to thrive because I couldn’t give him milk. I cried when he cried. I cried when I nursed him. I cried when he slept. I cried because I did not understand why I couldn’t give him nourishment. I was an emotional wreck.

I started pumping milk for him so I could measure how much he was taking in. He was supposed to be taking in an ounce an hour and if I couldn’t keep up with that, the doctors said we must supplement because he needs to thrive. I was scared to death of giving him formula so I pumped like crazy. and when tiny drops trickled into my bottle, I cried even more. Ninang Karen religiously sent him milk at the hospital to supplement my supply and he started regaining weight. We were discharged with the instructions to not let his intake fall below 24 ounces in 24 hours, whether with breast milk or formula, just as long as we comply.

I religiously recorded my milk output every pumping, which I did every hour. I had a notebook for his intake, and between my milk and Ate Karen’s donor milk, we were able to comply with his 24 ounces without opening the can of formula sitting threateningly at my bedside table.

I continued eating malunggay every meal, not caring if I had eaten the same stuff three times everyday for almost 2 months. I continued taking my malunggay capsules, at least 10 everyday. I continued taking Fenugreek, at least 9 capsules everyday. I drank the lactation tea like water, brewing a whole liter of it and carrying it around the house because I was on a mission to finish it. I took Domperidone religiously every day. I ate lactation cookies, oatmeal and anything and everything that has some proof to increase milk supply.

Then, after just a week of Bradley’s release from the hospital, it suddenly was my turn.

I had unbearable abdominal pain, probably from the abuse it took with my obsession to bring in the milk. Plus, my gastric juices exploded like fireworks because of the little voice inside my head, stressing about that can of formula in our room that had to remain sealed. I was confined for two days, and there was nothing in the world I wanted to do but hold my Bradley Boy again.

I was discharged after two days, but I was given medication for 2 weeks, and those meds made me unsafe to breastfeed. Crap. 2 weeks. That was crazy. I pumped but unfortunately had to dump the pathetic ounces of milk I could produce. Ate Karen continued sending over milk, but without my share, it just wasn’t enough to meet the quota our doctors have set. And so, the can of formula had to be opened.

The first bottle was the hardest. I couldn’t do it. I had let Brian do it. It was as if I was succumbing to the fact that I couldn’t produce enough milk to keep my son thriving. It got better eventually, and I remember Bradley’s doctors telling me then, “Breast is best, but formula isn’t poison. It could be life saving in your case.” I remember being horrified each time I gave him a bottle of formula, but when he was hungry and I couldn’t give him milk, I knew in my gut, I had to nourish him in some way. I never stopped pumping milk for him though, every hour, everyday. I power pumped at least once a week, 10 minutes of pumping with 10 minute intervals of rest for 2 hours. I pumped when he drank from the bottle, I pumped when he slept. I was beating myself just to increase my milk supply, and eventually I literally bled myself dry.

I realized then I suddenly missed my baby. I was obsessed with pumping that every time I see his eyes light up, I feel guilt shooting up for not giving him milk, that I rush into my little pumping corner. I hadn’t played with him in a long time. I may be giving him a few ounces of milk, but I am taking away his mother. Because you see, motherhood is not just breastfeeding. Not being able to breastfeed shouldn’t stop you from being the mother your child deserves to have. I had to learn it the hard way. I still believe that breastfeeding is the best way to feed your child, but I have come to understand that it is not the end all and be all of being a mother. Motherhood is feeding, nourishing, giving life. 

I realized that once upon a time I was the kind of person who judged moms who formula-fed. I thought they were selfish, they just wanted to go back to the life they had without the inconvenience of a demanding baby at their breast 24/7. I thought they were irresponsible, that they did not take the time to research on the irreplaceable benefits of breastfeeding. I thought that they were lazy, that they did not try hard enough to breastfeed because the books say milk will really come out if you just keep at it. I thought I was going to be a better mother than them one day because I will breastfeed my child as long as he wants to.  Now, i know there are moms who formula-feed who are selfless, practically consuming themselves with an obsession to breastfeed but failing nonetheless. I know there are moms who formula-feed who are responsible and making sure their babies won’t ever have to be diagnosed with failure to thrive and by all means nourish them in whatever way possible. I know there are moms who formula-feed who beat themselves up, working hard to get the milk flowing but will never be able to. I know that moms are not better than other moms because there is just no reason to compare or complete a checklist to make you win the best mom award. Motherhood is a special thing that you share with a very special someone. There are no comparisons, no charts, no benchmarks. Love is the only requirement.

I realized that breastfeeding doesn’t come easy for everyone, so when you and your baby manage to work it seamlessly, embrace your blessing. Don’t stop nursing just because there is a lifestyle you need to get back to. The jealous bug still bites me sometimes when I see moms nursing effortlessly, and why Bradley and I had to go through what we went through when all I wanted to do was give him the best. Don’t give every formula-feeding mom well-meaning advice without asking what they’ve been through. It gets me each time somebody tells me just to eat malunggay, like it was the obvious first step that I didn’t take. I know I have followed every advice in the book, I have even downloaded audio galactogues and painstakingly listened to it while pumping. That mom may have tried the tried and tested methods, even the unconventional ones, just to get the milk flowing, so don’t judge her and bomb her with advice like she didn’t try.

Be there for your formula-feeding mom friend. Though it’s true that there are moms who just prefer to formula-feed for reasons that are entirely theirs without needing explanation, you never know if that formula-feeding mom next to you is that kind of mom, or the mom who fought tooth and nail to breastfeed but failed. I am blessed to have Ate Karen as a friend. She has been with me and Bradley Boy at the start of our breastfeeding journey, encouraging, supporting and reassuring. But, when she saw how my obsession was taking its toll on me, she told me it was okay to relax. She continued giving milk to Bradley everyday, and she did so lovingly, without judgment. I was blessed because I had supportive breastfeeding friends who loved me and Bradley more than my ability to make milk, who hugged me when I cried, and not once judged me.  Coykee even offered to have frozen milk flown in from Manila for Bradley and Monique changed his diapers dotingly while I sobbed inconsolably. Kat never questioned why but texted me every time she could pump extra milk for Bradley. I have the best neighbors ever. So, be there for your formula-feeding mom friend, my friends kept me sane even if my hormones easily made me a candidate for post-partum depression.

Husbands, stand by your wives. Keep your united front. During our journey as new parents, there were many times we questioned our ability to raise another human being, and if we did not get our act together, we might have been unable to bat other people’s judgment. After we got over the initial shock of parenting, we supported each other all the way, supporting and trusting instincts and informed decisions. Brian supported my desire to breastfeed, sheltered me from judgment, and when we started to formula-feed, he was just as supportive. We only had one goal in mind, to raise our Bradley Boy healthy and happy, however it takes.

And 8 months later, we know we did.

I still definitely want to exclusively nurse our next baby, and I believe I have become a stronger, less judgmental, more respectful kind of person coming out of this adventure with Bradley Boy.

This blog is for all the formula-feeding moms out there who get judged into thinking they are not good moms. This is for all the breastfeeding moms who give liquid gold to their babies and untiringly change the world with this advocacy one mommy at a time. This is for the partner of every new mom, who stands by her and buckles up on her emotional rollercoaster and unconditionally hugging and supporting her. This is for Bradley love, I have loved you before you were born, and loving you more each day. I will always, always love you.  This is for me. It’s kind of liberating to share our story, and have a chance to thank the people who were there every step of the way.

Motherhood, especially the first take, isn’t easy. But the rewards far outweigh the sacrifices. The smiles, the giggles, the sloppy kisses and hugs, the heartwarming milestones make all the tears, self-doubts, pain, worries all worth it. I would do them all again in a heartbeat. That, I believe makes us one in this motherhood thing, not the way we feed our kids. The way we love our children is what we must hold on to to stand by our united front.

Happy breastfeeding month to all moms! Yes, that includes breastfeeding moms, and formula-feeding moms who believe in breastfeeding!

From Brooke Orosz, posted on Reporting Negligence Resulting in Infant Starvation

Brooke Orosz

January 2

My son was born 2 years ago today. In my seventh month, he was diagnosed with a condition called intrauterine growth restriction, basically his placenta wasn’t working right, and he was growing too slowly as a result. To prevent complications, he was delivered by c-section at 37 weeks. He weighed just 4 pounds 15 ounces and appeared to have no baby fat at all, but he was vigorously healthy, and was able to spend his hospital stay with us rather than in NICU. We were absolutely over the moon.

At 48 hours old, his bilirubin was just over 10. Shortly before his discharge at about 80 hours old, a staff member weighed him and discovered that he had already lost 11% of his body weight, but did not tell us this. Despite several risk factors, no one suggested an additional bilirubin measurement before going home or counseled us on the risks of severe jaundice. We left the hospital with the impression that everything was going perfectly.

The next morning, we went to the pediatrician, who sent to the hospital for another bili check. An hour later, he called us and told us to drive our son to the regional NICU. At readmission, he had lost 14% of his body weight, his sodium level was 159, and his bili was over 19. He had to stay in the hospital overnight, and we had to leave him behind.

I cannot praise enough the NICU staff, a doctor, several nurses, a social worker and an LC. They acted swiftly and effectively to save my son’s life, preserve his brain function and restore his health, and treated his father and I with extraordinary compassion on the worst day of our lives. I wish I remembered their names so I could name them, instead I will merely thank the NICU staff of St. Barnabas Hospital.

The hospital where he was born was Clara Maas. I cannot name one single staff member who was clearly negligent, I think it was more a case of him slipping through the cracks. The on-staff LC never checked on us after the first day, and I still don’t know exactly who knew what when or who made which decision. Nevertheless, they allowed an at-risk newborn (37 weeks and SGA) to go home without double-checking that he was safe or providing any
special instructions for his care. Personally, I would not deliver another baby there.

Details of the incident have been reported to Clara Maas hospital in a formal complaint, and to the Joint Commission.

Below: My son in NICU, aged 4 days, and now today at age 2.

From Meagan Jackson, posted on the Facebook Group Reporting Negligence Resulting in Infant Starvation

Meagan Jackson

January 7

After experiencing firsthand the nightmare that breastfeeding can be, I had all but decided to skip trying to nurse my second child and go straight to formula and a bottle. Somehow, by the time he was born, the pressure to try again was already so strong that I was absolutely determined he would be exclusively breastfed. 

Owen is the product of a typical vaginal delivery, born healthy at an average 7 pounds 9 ounces. We were released from the hospital after 24 hours and I was thrilled to get home to my 2 year old little girl as a family of four. 

Owen latched on with no issues and nursed constantly. Since my daughter had latch issues, I had no idea that it wasn't normal for a newborn to nurse for hours at a time. I was so happy breastfeeding was a success this time around. My mom and I noticed how Owen had more of an "olive" skin tone than his sister did, never connecting it to jaundice. 

Imagine my surprise when my great little eater and sleeper had dropped to nearly 6 pounds by his one week check up. I knew he had dropped some weight but had no clue it was so much. His doctor took one look at him and I could tell she was nervous when she sent us to labs. 

His bilirubin came back at 17 and we were told to check in to the hospital for jaundice treatment that day. No one expressed how urgent it was to get to the hospital. We went home, ate lunch, packed bags for the hospital and dropped our daughter off with her grandmother. Getting through hospital admissions took at least an hour. Within 4 hours his bilirubin had risen to 22. 

My sweet little newborn spent 5 days with a mask over his eyes getting light therapy. This wasn't how it was supposed to be- me, an exhausted new mother back in the hospital watching her newborn in a box beside her. 

It was exhausting. Every three hours I repeated the same process: nurse 45 minutes, pump (took approx 45 minutes), supplement the 1-2 mL I
was pumping with a syringe, wait for the blood draw to come back and hope for a drop in numbers, attempt to get some sleep, repeat. There were many tears of exhaustion. I wanted to hold my new child, I missed my daughter at home, I longed for some decent sleep, my body ached from giving birth less than 10 days ago and I was trying so hard to avoid formula. 

After several days they finally brought in the formula and said his numbers just weren't dropping enough. Why had I not just started with this from the beginning? I could be home right now. Still I kept nursing, kept pumping. It was clear I was producing little to nothing but the message to mothers is don't give up, your milk will come in. Breastmilk is the best- right? 

We were finally sent home after what seemed like an eternity. 24 hours later Owen was lethargic and we were back in the ER. It took hours just to get admitted. A NICU nurse poked and prodded at him, it looked like torture and all I could think was "hasn't my little two week old son had enough?" By the time we were admitted it was 3 am and we were stuck in a shared room with one chair for both my husband and me. Owen got fluids for another 24 hours. To say we were drained is an understatement.

At 3 weeks old I finally gave up on pumping and was at 100% formula. We still struggled to get him to take a bottle. We must have purchased every type of bottle, nipple, formula. At 4 weeks we were back in the hospital again. No one could figure out what was wrong. Finally, like magic, we found a specific formula he would take (alimentum, ready to feed version only). 

Growing up he was abnormally quiet. I never bonded with Owen when he was an infant like I did my daughter. I thought the problem was me. I would hold him and love on him, but he didn't giggle or coo like other babies. 

We would try so hard to make him laugh, the only way we could find was to tickle him. It almost looked like it was painful for him to laugh as a baby. 

He never waved, blew kisses or clapped. He didn't turn his head when we called his name. We joked that we should have named his "Mickey" because his face was glued to the TV when Mickey Mouse was on. He didn't reach for toys or shriek in delight. He didn't raise his arms up and say "mama" when I walked by. 

Even as a baby he was in his own world. He was never curious about what was in the next room or around the corner. His motivation to crawl was to get to an iPad. 

At 12 months his doctor suggested we have tubes placed in his ears, saying all his ear infections may have caused some hearing loss. When we went in for his 15 month appointment the tubes had been placed but we hadn't seen any changes. His doctor casually suggested it maybe "Aspergers or something" but we should wait and see how he was at 18 months. 

When I got home I searched autism online and had no doubt Owen was autistic. I contacted the few people I knew with autistic children including Christie. Thank goodness for Christie and her heart of gold! I would have been absolutely lost without her. Because of Christie I was able to get Owen the services he needed as fast as I could. 

Today, Owen is on the level of a 10 month old in speech and between 15-17 month old in occupational and physical therapy. He will be 3 in January (2 weeks). When I'm out in public and I see a baby sitting in a high chair clap or wave, I see a toddler run by, or a two year old say an entire sentence, my heart breaks a little. Now it's even more disappointing to see the engagement of three year olds as his birthday is so close.

My little boy says the word "ball", though not very clearly, and that is it. He still isn't running, clapping or waving. He sometimes turns to his name, but I can't trust that he will come to me when I call for him. He has feeding and sensory issues and a very limited diet. He is constantly sensory seeking, chewing on hair, pushing off furniture and pushing his feet into people. He is getting stronger and pulls his diaper off constantly which means cleaning up messes often along with fights just to get him and keep him dressed.

What can't be measured is how incredibly sweet, happy and loved he is. How much we all cheer when he takes a bite of food. How excited we get when he picks up a ball, smiles and says "baal!" How infectious his laughter is. Most importantly, how he has taught us to celebrate and appreciate the small victories in life.

From Johanna Matthiesen on Facebook

Team Mighty Bruce and Friends added 13 new photos.

February 22 · 

NEVER thought I'd have to explain this, but here we are.

I, without any shame, bottle feed Bruce. Sue me. 

Let me explain.

This evening last year Bruce stopped breathing. He. Stopped. Breathing. He turned blue, went limp, game over.

I posted a picture from my TimeHop (the first one of him being *gasp* bottle fed, nasal cannula and all). I mentioned how after the interview we had about his fundraiser, he ate, and then later in the evening he STOPPED BREATHING...and literally...literally somebody said, "You should have breastfed him..."

Um. What? Turn to picture two in this little slide show. Jet ventilator. You can't breastfeed a ventilated baby. YOU CAN'T BREASTFEED A VENTILATED BABY!!!!!

Fun fact. The sucking reflex does not begin to develop till you are about 32 weeks pregnant (or are a preemie who is at 32 weeks gestation). And it isn't fully developed till 36 weeks gestation!!! 

Bruce was born at 25 weeks. So his sucking reflex wouldn't be fully developed for AT LEAST 11 more weeks. So, another fun fact, you can't breastfeed a 25 weeker even if you wanted to, they don't have the sucking reflex required to do so. That's why in many of Bruce's old pictures you see that orange tube in his nose. That's an NG tube. It helped us feed him. 

Turn to pictures three, four, and five. Yes, he is drinking a bottle, but guess what is in there...SURPRISE! That's my fresh boobie milk. Check out picture six! That was all mine, I pumped that.

I pumped every three hours for three months straight. I pumped until my nipples cracked and bled. I took vitamins, supplements and herbs to boost my supply. I did EVERYTHING. I tried nipple cream, I tried my own boobie juice to try to soothe my nips, and nothing helped. 

When Bruce went into isolation for MRSA that was pretty much it. I needed to be back on anxiety and migraine medicine. My boobs were black and blue and it was time to do what was best for MY health as well as Bruce's. 

I'm not going to be shamed for doing what was best for my health. I'm not going to be shamed for doing what was best for Bruce's health! 

Mom shaming has to stop. Stop with this breast is best bullshit. What is best is whatever the hell you are able to do in the situation you are in. You do you. 

I feel bad for not bringing this topic up sooner. When I stopped pumping I never really brought it up because I was ashamed of myself. I spent too much time crying over it, I didn't want to have to explain to everyone what happened, but now on the anniversary of when Bruce stopped breathing and had to go back to NICU, I'm ready to talk. Not breastfeeding didn't cause him to stop breathing, him being a preemie did. That's what happens sometimes. I don't EVER want someone to imply to me or another mother again that maybe their child stopped breathing because they bottle fed. STOP THAT. RIGHT NOW. STOP MOMMY SHAMING!!!!!

SHARE THIS POST, don't be shamed for doing what is best for you.

‪#‎StopMommyShaming‬ ‪#‎FedIsBest‬ The Fearless Formula Feeder

From Katlin Luscombe on Facebook

The lovely Katlin Luscombe with her son Flynn (1) she is also currently 6 weeks pregnant with baby number two! Katlin had a very healthy pregnancy save some morning sickness early on but didn't have any difficulty. Her labor was only 13 hours for start to finish, she was checked as labor started and hand't quite progressed, they instructed her to come back in a couple days when labor picked up. Later that afternoon she checked into the birth center and Flynn was born naturally 30 minutes later without any intervention. Katlin is very natural minded and had every expectation of breastfeeding but at 2 weeks made the switch to formula. She was in a lot of pain and Flynn lost a full pound in less than a week. He was also suffering from severe reflux and colic. She says she felt like a failure and was embarrassed to feed her son in public for a long time for fear of scrutiny. It is something that has been very difficult for her. While she hopes to successfully breastfeed her second baby she is grateful that switching to formula for Flynn has helped him be the healthy, happy toddler he is today.  ‪#‎fedisbest‬‪

Comment from Precious Cardenas Prieto on Facebook

Precious Cardenas Prieto via Cleft Lip and Palate Breastfeeding

February 5 · 

This is for all the future mommies out there. Please know that ‪#‎fedisbest‬and ‪#‎lovedisbest‬ and whatever feeding method you choose does not define what kind of mom you are.

P.S. While breastfeeding classes are awesome and while it's true that breastfeeding and the flow of breastmilk have a "learning curve", please also take the initiative to know if your newborn, especially during his first 72 hours of life, isn't getting enough breastmilk so you can get help right away. Knowing the symptoms can mean the difference between life and death.

Why bottle-feeding might actually be the best choice for some people - Baby Sideburns

Dear lady who’s bottle-feeding her newborn in Starbucks right now, Yeah, I saw that. That group of women in the chairs who just gave you a disapproving look when you whipped out the bottle. Now mayyybe they just don’t … Continue reading →

BABYSIDEBURNS.COM|BY BABY SIDEBURNS

From Annie Ferguson Muscato, Published by the Huffington Post

Dear Stranger in Target,

You didn't need to tell me, "breast is best" as I was buying a can of baby formula, because I already know.
I know that my husband and I excitedly took the four hour breast feeding class when I was pregnant. 
I know that my baby immediately did skin to skin and ate from my breast within an hour of her birth, because it was important to me.
I know that we saw a lactation consultant before we took her home, and again a few weeks later.
I know that we struggled at first. That some nights we both cried together. That my dear friends swore it would get better. I know they were right, and it did.
I know "breast is best" just like you do.

But, let me tell you what else I know.
I know that my baby began screaming after she ate. Writhing in pain. Inconsolable.
I know over the last month and a half I have exclusively pumped and tried slow flow bottles of breast milk, I have tried different positions, I have seen another lactation consultant.
I know I have held my child, my baby, while she screamed for hours- one day for eight hours straight.
I know we have been to see the pediatrician at least twice a week since she has been born.
I know that I tried cutting soy, and dairy, and leafy greens from my diet to make my milk more digestible for her.
I have pumped- and I'm still pumping- enough to have hundreds of ounces of breast milk in my freezer even though she will likely never be able to eat it.
All because "breast is best."

And then finally, we tried the hypoallergenic dairy protein free formula you saw me buying today. And the screaming lessened. And my baby started smiling. She started interacting. She started sleeping.
And I cried. Because I thought breast was best. I thought my body failed her. I thought she wouldn't be as healthy on formula.
I know you think I must not care or I'm lazy, or maybe you were genuinely trying to be helpful and thought no one had ever told me the benefits of breast feeding.

But, you are wrong. What I know that you don't is that breast ISN'T always best. I know happy, healthy baby is best. I know FED is best.
What I'm sure we both know is that parenting is hard. Really hard. That sometimes what we plan for and what we want just doesn't work out, but we are all here trying to do what's best for our babies.

So, dear stranger, next time you see someone buying formula, try to remember that mamas should support each other. Think about everything you might not know. Remind yourself that "fed is best" and smile because it means someone loves their baby enough to do what's best for them.

Love,
Another Mom Doing Her Best and a Happier Formula Fed Baby

P.S. Dear friends, please feel free to share this in the hopes the people who need the reminder see it. (And I will in turn promise not to bombard your wall with any more essays about parenting!)


http://www.huffingtonpost.com/annie-ferguson-muscato-/dear-stranger-in-target_b_9751896.html?1461267784

From Liz Ellen on Facebook

Liz Ellen

January 7

My daughter Ady was born 11/7/2009 at 39+5 weeks. I went into labor on my own, but ended up with a c-section. My water broke on it’s own as well, but Ady was not engaged, so I wasn’t allowed to get up and walk around due to risk of cord prolapse. During labor, my BP was upwards of 175/110 and sometimes higher. We finally went section when baby started having concerning decels from which she didn’t recover well. She was 9#4oz, 21 inches long.

The first day, she was a perfect angel. She didn’t cry, slept a lot. She also didn’t want to latch. I had a lot of “help” from the IBCLC at the hospital, which consisted mostly of her grabbing the baby out of my arms and forcing her onto my breast. I had to tickle her chin throughout every feeding to get her to even try to suck. The LC told me she was a lazy baby and that I needed to throw out my formula samples so that I wouldn’t be tempted to use it when she was not interested in latching. She explained that because she was lazy, she would not want to latch again if she were to have a bottle, since bottles are easier to suck from. When we left the hospital 48 hours after birth, she had only lost 2 oz, so we assumed she was getting enough milk.

Nursing continued pretty much the same as it had at the hospital. I would have to encourage her to want to eat, she never seemed hungry, but I tried to stick with an every 2 hours feeding plan anyway. At her 1 week apt, she was still 9#2oz, so she hadn’t lost anything, but she also hadn’t gained anything. The pediatrician suggested seeing an LC to make sure she was getting enough. That LC never did weighed feeds, just gave me a laundry list of galactagogues to use and showed me different ways to latch her. She as well told me to toss any formula I had, after I asked if supplementing would help. According to her, supplementing always ruins the breastfeeding relationship. She was checked for a tongue and lip tie and determined not to have one, so the term lazy latcher continued. 

At 2 weeks, she was back up to her birth weight of 9#4oz. A 2oz gain in 2 weeks. At this point, she was still happy and sleeping fairly well, and her cheeks were still full.
We went about our merry way and thought things were turning around. By this time, I was taking fenugreek and drinking mother’s milk tea, as well as practically drowning myself in fluids. The pediatrician recommended another weight check to be sure and so at 4 weeks, we had another visit. She had gained nothing in two weeks. And yet, somehow, he was not concerned. “Bigger babies don’t gain fast at first”. I had my 6 week post partum check up and talked with the OB about my concerns. She sent me off to a compounding pharmacy with a prescription for Domperidone. I didn’t really know all that much about it and since my OB said she had used it for herself with great success, I just assumed it would do what I needed it to. 

I think it’s possible that the meds did something, because Ady was up to 10# even at her 2 month weigh in at 9 weeks, a gain of 12oz in 5 weeks (from her 4 week check up to 9 weeks). We traveled to my inlaws right after that apt and everything started to go downhill from there. She started refusing to latch, she would scream when I tried to feed her. Car rides became a daily thing to calm her down and get her to nap at all, and my parents started taking her as well so I could get some sleep. It was sometime around the end of January (around 11-12 weeks) that things came to a head. I couldn’t get her to calm down, it had been about 6 hours since she had eaten and I had been trying for nearly 3 hours to get her to latch, calm down, get her to latch, calm down. My husband called my parents because he didn’t know what to do to help. They showed up with a can of formula, a bottle, bottled water and instructions for me to go take a long shower and try to relax and breathe. When I came back down, Ady had had 10oz of formula and was such a different baby. She was actually sleeping, calmly, in my mom’s arms. After that first bottle, I went to a schedule of nurse, supplement, pump for a few weeks until I couldn’t take it anymore. She was drinking at least 4oz bottles after every feed and it was obvious she wasn’t getting pretty much anything from me. So we switched to all pumping, every two hours, and power pumping in the evenings, and feeding her what milk I could pump plus formula. What I pumped was very watery looking, with almost no fat content. So on top of not producing much, I also didn’t have healthy milk either. Why the LC never thought to check that, I don’t know. I finally decided I just couldn’t keep pumping and we switched to all formula.

Ady grew incredibly well on formula. She was 13#8oz at her 4 month check up. She started sleeping and became a very happy baby. Today, she has a few side effects from the lack of nutrition. She has nodules on her vocal chords from screaming so much as a baby. Thankfully, those are shrinking ever so slowly and her voice is getting better. I’ve had multiple little kids ask me or her why her voice didn’t sound right. To me, that question was like a knife in my heart because I know it could have been avoided. Ady also sees a gastroenterologist due to motility issues. They believe the issues are caused by the lack of proper nutrition and hydration, and over time, those also have gotten far better. She’s had multiple bouts of non-sickness related diarrhea that caused her to lose some weight, and other times, we have to treat her with miralax to help her go. But those episodes are getting few and far between and she’s growing so well now. She’s in the 94% for weight and 87% for height. I know she is healthy and happy now, but I still feel so guilty for everything that happened. 

I have since reported the pediatrician, both LCs and my OB. I reported my OB for mistreatment during my pregnancy, as she ignored my concerns about possible pre-eclampsia (like gaining 8# in 5 days, swelling more than 2 shoe sizes, headaches all the time). My current OB and MFM agree that I definitely had pre-e, based on my history/charts that were sent to them. I believe that had she taken my concerns seriously, we at least would not have had quite the traumatic start we did and that might have helped both of us. I also reported her for prescribing domperidone. She has since been forced out of the hospital I deliver at and is now with a different hospital. Many of her patients have left her because of poor treatment as well.
The hospital LC has undergone more training. She apologized to me this past March for her treatment of me 6 years ago. She said she knows now that formula supplementation can actually improve the breastfeeding experience and she’s been better trained to recognize issues related to PCOS, Insulin resistance, IGT, and other hormonal imbalances. Nothing has been done about the other LC or the pediatrician.

The first three photos were all taken between 4 and 10 weeks of age. She had lost her full cheeks, her arms were skin and bones and she was pale. I have no photos of her at her worst because I was so horrified about how sick she had gotten without my seeing it THEN that I had my husband delete them. I have absolutely zero pictures of Ady from the month of February at all. The last picture is of Ady the end of March, close to 5 months old. She was back to her happy self, full cheeks and a full belly.