Decision

Warning: Very long post about breastfeeding ahead...

I nursed my three older children until they were each a year old, but I've always had a lukewarm relationship with breastfeeding. I did it because it was "best", but didn't necessarily love it or even like it very much. I always said if I ever had twins, I probably wouldn't breastfeed because it just seemed way too hard.

When I was pregnant with the twins, we started crunching the numbers to figure out if we could survive if I worked part-time after they came. We could, but it would be cutting it pretty close. One of the things built into the budget is that I would nurse the babies as long as possible because of the money it would save. I bought a twin nursing pillow and got tips from my sister who had twins earlier this year.

Fast forward to now. I think I would sum up my nursing experience this time around as draining--both physically and emotionally. I've always had some pain with nursing (had a really tough time the first time around with S) but for some reason this time, I just haven't been able to get over the hump, so to speak. When each feeding time approaches, my palms get sweaty and I begin to panic, trying to put it off as long as I can. It definitely hurts more on one side than the other, so much so that it takes me at least a couple minutes extra to get the baby latched on because I just can't make myself do it. And when I do get the baby latched on, it hurts the entire time, with shooting pains that go all the way down my left side. I'm doing everything I can to reverse the pain and toughen up my body, but nothing seems to be working. If anything, it's getting worse.

About a week ago, I had a break down and was this close to giving up breastfeeding entirely, but I slogged ahead. Several wonderful women gave me great advice, telling me that nursing wasn't worth sacrificing my emotional and mental well-being, but I still couldn't get past the guilt or money worries. Until today.

I'm not exactly sure what changed--why I suddenly felt at peace with the idea of quitting. It honestly felt like a light switch flipped inside my head and I finally realized that nursing the twins was no longer the best thing for me or for them. A few things led up to this decision.

A big worry for me has been the twins' size. They started out smaller than my other babies, but I was confident that when my milk came in, they would begin fattening up pretty quickly. As I told the babies in the hospital, "I've never had any complaints about my milk before, guys." Unfortunately, they're not gaining weight very quickly. I've had a few people tell me that sometimes smaller babies gain weight slower, but little A especially just seems so skinny still. One of the things that always kept me breastfeeding before was that my babies seemed to do so well. Even if I was in pain or didn't necessarily like doing it, my babies thrived and that was enough for me. S had regained her birth weight by six days old. H had gained two pounds by the time he was three weeks old. The fact that the twins don't seem to really be thriving on breastfeeding makes it that much harder to get through the pain. Another factor is their fussiness. Yes, I know babies are often fussy, but when they get fussy only minutes after eating, I start to wonder if they're getting enough after all.

In the hospital, they told me I might have a hernia. The muscles in my stomach area didn't seem to be going back together in the right way, but the doc said we'd just have to wait and see how the next few weeks played out. He said if it was indeed a hernia and became strangulated, I'd be in a lot of pain and require emergency surgery. Last night I started having some random sharp pains in my stomach. I sat there worrying that it might be the start of a problem and actually thought to myself that if it was indeed a strangulated hernia, I'd be in the hospital for surgery and recovery for several days and most definitely would have to stop breastfeeding. I found myself hoping this would happen. Not exactly the thought process of an emotionally stable person.

Today, little N woke up earlier than her brother for a feeding. Since I feed them at the same time, I bounced her and tried to calm her down so her brother could sleep a little longer. But even when he woke up, I kept stalling, dragging my feet through the mud once again because I just wasn't ready to do it. And then the light switch turned on in my head. I realized that I would rather bounce a crying and hungry baby than nurse that baby. That's when I knew that this wasn't a good thing, for me or for the babies. So, I pulled out the formula and the older kids helped me feed the babies. And something inside me relaxed.

I'm not sure how all of the financial logistics will work out, but A has told me over and over that we'll make it work, no matter what I decide to do. I know that switching to formula doesn't mean that these babies will suddenly sleep through the night or be less fussy, or that the other stresses in our new life will suddenly go away, but I really believe that I'll be a better mom to all my kids now. The pain and stress of breastfeeding have been so wrapped in everything else about this experience that I haven't even really been able to enjoy these babies. I hope I can a little more now.