Postpartum Depression and Anxiety: When No One Knows

by Kileah McIlvain

TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains experiences of depression and anxiety and loss and may be triggering to certain individuals. Please read with care.

postpartum depression postpartum anxiety, monster within.

photo: urban bay photography

I sat there. On the park bench in the middle of Laurelhurst a year ago today. He sat on the other end. I felt like a NOTHING. A Void. A Black hole from which and out of which nothing good could come. I wanted to hurl myself into the quiet duckpond while the local shakespeare players were acting out a scene from Macbeth on the other side of the trees. The feelings of exploding, of darkness, of drowning, of feeling like nothing but a walking corpse never felt more present. What was the point? Why the hell was I put on this earth if God was going to play russian roulette with my life? What the hell was I supposed to do with this gnawing grief of  a past miscarriage and the overwhelming demands of  trying to meet my family’s needs? Why couldn’t I just be kind? Why couldn’t I be strong and be good and just BE who my kids and my husband needed me to be? The questions that had taken root in the dark and walled-up places of my heart began to erupt. The rotten rags that I’d used to stuff up all of the leaks and holes riddling my soul began to surface from these murky depths. I was thrashing around in the gaping maw of my own personal monster. I couldn’t move anymore. I was going to sink. I wanted to sink…and be nothing. It was terrifying.

I. Wanted. To. Die. 

The strange thing is. No one tells you. Either because they don’t know what to say or they don’t even KNOW. It’s easy to smile and nod, and pretend you’ve got it together. Because that’s what you do. It’s invisible, this monster. It chews at your mind and sucks your soul until you feel hulled out…like a painted eggshell that looks great to everyone around you…but you’re hollow and fragile. And no one has a clue. They don’t know that you want to run away. They don’t know that it terrifies you to say anything because you’re sure that if you do, someone will call CPS or SPCC and take your children away. You’re convinced you’re a bad mom. That you aren’t capable of caring for these little humans you gave birth to. The yelling, the blackouts where 15 minutes later you don’t know what was done or what was said. The deeply-ridden shame and anxiety and the panic attacks triggered by the hot water in the shower. I remember the earliest days of my darkness when I laid my son down two weeks after becoming a new mother and cringing because the thought of touching him repulsed me. Because I didn’t want him to touch me. His crying and my exhaustion and me feeling like I couldn’t do anything right (including breastfeeding challenges)…it was overwhelming. And it didn’t stop. With each new life I birthed into this world, my darkness found new depths and more desolate places to dwell. This happened to me. This silent inner monster had blackened everything…and it didn’t go away.

I reached that breaking point a year ago today. I realized that I was unwell. That it wasn’t normal to want to die. That it wasn’t normal to be experiencing panic attacks and blackouts and physical pain because you didn’t want to move or deal or face anyone or anything. That running away from bonding emotionally through touch wasn’t normal.

I’ll tell you what didn’t help.

  • The very cautious ventures into the world of mental health and community before my breaking point had so far amounted to bible verses being shoved down my raw throat (If you just do ABC, God will make it all better!) and people frustrated with my questions because “How could you think this about God? It just isn’t true, and you have to figure that out!”
  • I was told “You’re breastfeeding! There should be tons of lovey warm hormones flowing through you. That isn’t possible!”
  • I was told “Well I got over it, I just had to make up my mind to pull myself up out of this funk.” To which I said “Really? Because I’ve been trying for 5 years and 3 more kids now…and it isn’t working.”
  • I was told “It’s just the baby blues. You just need  YOU-time.” And while that may be the healing ticket someone needs to start getting better…it wasn’t mine. It was only a small number in the equation that was my situation.

What did I do? Well, nothing huge to start with. But talking to someone about it helped. (for me, that was my partner.) No, he wasn’t perfect, but he sat there. And listened. I told him that I was terrified. All the time. I was angry. Angry that God allowed my life to experience what I have. That it wasn’t necessary. That everyone’s life would be better off without me in it. That I wasn’t what anyone needed and I wasn’t healthy for anyone to deal with. I was scared of repeating the harm and emotional and relational damage that was done to me in my own childhood. That started my own journey to health. Reaching out, finding resources, wanting better.

I found a few resources online to point me in the right direction. I was currently breastfeeding my 4th little one and didn’t even know if there were medication options available for me. I didn’t know WHAT I needed, exactly. I just knew that up to that point? Nothing was working. And it needed to change. This had been going on for 5 years. FIVE. YEARS. I didn’t even know what normal meant for me anymore…I only knew THIS. I found a therapist through my state’s mental health resources. I was connected with people that didn’t look down on me like I was some unfit mother…but as a valuable human being who had a condition and in need of help navigating through my depression and anxiety so that I could be healthy again.

Postpartum depression and anxiety isn’t just in your head. It isn’t imagined or something you can just will away or pretend it doesn’t exist.

Postpartum depression and anxiety IS real.

Postpartum depression and anxiety IS a monster.

But it’s a monster you DON’T have to try slaying on your own.

photo: urban bay photography

photo: urban bay photography

Am I there yet? No. But some days I am better.

Sometimes I can look up now and notice that the way the wind moves through the trees is beautiful. I can catch glimpses of hope in my eyes when I look in the mirror. Some days are dark. Really dark. But they are not ALL dark, now. I am not alone. I know now that it’s ok to reach out to the people in my life who are helping me through this. My husband. My therapist. My councilor.  My mind…is better. Medication,therapy, counseling, therapeutic touch, acupuncture, babywearing, herbal supplements, meals…those are a few things that are helping me.  The biggest catalyst for me? Speaking up. Spreading awareness of just what postpartum depression and anxiety feels like and what it can do and resources that are out there to help mothers struggling. Because I am there. WE are there. And things CAN get better. WE are not alone.

Photo: Urban Bay Photography

Photo: Urban Bay Photography

Speak. Don’t stay silent.

Your voice may shake. Your knees may buckle. The monster inside may scream at you. But know you are enough. There IS help. The world IS more beautiful because you are in it. Courage, dear heart. You are enough. And this heart of yours is being forged into a masterpiece. You. Are. LOVED.

Some resources that helped me understand my postpartum depression and anxiety:

Artistic infographics on what it feels like to live with depression and anxiety. Good for people who want to help but don’t know what to do.

A helpful collection of comic strips because a different perspective and sense of humor can help.

A great checklist and resource page that helped me in recognizing PPD and PPA.

 

#MyStoryMatters

“I always feel bad sharing my story because I don’t want to make others feel bad, breastfeeding my baby was so easy for me, it was just perfect. I almost feel like my story doesn’t count.”

The woman standing in front of me had a sleeping little one strapped on her back and a worried expression pressed on her face. She shared briefly in this rushed moment with hundreds of people around us that she rarely talked about her breastfeeding experience when she knows so many women struggle in their own journeys. Concern that sharing her own story may cause them pain, she keeps it to herself.

Another woman before her told me she didn’t talk about her breastfeeding journey except around a few key friends because it was so discouraging and difficult she didn’t want anyone else to feel sorry for her or not try breastfeeding out of fear that they would have a similar experience.

And before that a mother told me that she never talked about her experience feeding her baby for fear of judgment because she switched to formula just a few weeks in due to difficulties and postpartum depression compounded by needing to return to work. She just couldn’t take hearing more of the inevitable questions that would follow if she shared, asking if she tried any number of herbs and medications for her supply, if she saw the right kind of breastfeeding support, or how she felt about poisoning her baby with formula, or that if she truly loved her son she would have tried harder to give him breastmilk.

Following all of them was the mother that loved breastfeeding, had overcome a few difficulties, and went one to breastfeed for 3 years before weaning and starting all over again with a new little one. But she was a quiet person and not comfortable with breastfeeding in public, it was even challenging for her to do so with a cover and she preferred a private location away from other people. Awkward and very self-aware, she hated breastfeeding in public and she never posted breastfeeding pictures online (does that mean she even really breastfed if she didn’t take and share a #brelfie? Would people think she was lying?). So she didn’t talk about breastfeeding much because she felt like a fraud. There were some points she would love to tell but not all of it and not to just anyone. Her past history of sexual abuse made it even more difficult for her and she didn’t want to share more about her infant feeding path than she was comfortable with but that seemed inadequate and wouldn’t really help anyone.

All of these women and thousands of others I have heard from felt that their story didn’t matter. They felt their stories weren’t happy enough, dramatic enough, perfect enough, difficult enough, strong enough, smart enough, right enough, important enough, painful enough, humble enough, promising enough, advocate enough, bold enough.

Enough.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

You aren’t perfect and you never will be, whatever perfect means.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Your highs, your lows.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

The flab, the stretch marks, the skin and bones, or the extra padding.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

The moments of pride, the moments of shame.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Your hurt and your joy.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Your vagina, your scars, your breasts, and your bottles.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

And #YourStoryMatters.

#MyStoryMatters too.

Our children are watching, long before you will realize they are aware, they are watching. Every criticism you bestow upon yourself eats away at your confidence and how you view yourself. Which eats away at your child. How they will grow to see you, how they will grow to believe you see them, and how they will grow to see themselves. Are you treating yourself as well as you want your child to be treated by themselves and others some day? We are their models, is this what we want for them? And are we treating others, our friends and peers, how we want our children to treat others and how we want others to treat our children?

Will your child look at you and see that you are enough?

Will your child look at themselves and see that they are enough?

Perfection is far too high to aim for and since it is unattainable we are setting ourselves and our children up for failure if we tell them they are perfect and berate ourselves when we’re not. Someday they will know the truth that they aren’t perfect and we will have been the ones that lied to them.

But enough is enough. Within enough, there’s room for growth but still acceptance of where you are. When we are enough we can see how our stories matter. All of ours.

#IAmEnough

 

TLB is celebrating its 5th birthday this month. A month long celebration of our community and the thousands upon thousands of stories shared there. For 5 years families have been finding support in their journeys, receiving support and giving support. After finding the support they needed, many stay to pay it forward. Support forward. #TLBSupportForward. There is no better way to celebrate this milestone than going back to our roots, sharing our stories of feeding our children, our babies. To share your story with our community, email it to content @ theleakyboob.com (no spaces). All stories are welcome, we will have to be selective in what we publish to be sure it is a good fit and due to the volume of submissions it is possible we won’t be able to publish them all, but your story matters; so whether it is published on TLB or shared in the comments and interactions of our community, we hope you share your story. You can help encourage others with your story by making your own sign like above and taking a picture of you holding it to share on social media with these hashtags. Whatever it may be, from pure bliss of rainbows and sunshine to heartache and pain, your story matters. In sharing it you testify that you are enough and encourage others that they are enough too.

And together we all can say #IAmEnough #MyStoryMatters #TLBSupportForward.

Leaving the parenting island and asking for help

by Jessica Martin-Weber
Parenting Island and asking for help

Parenting Island AKA Poop Rock.

 

I was struck by the beauty of that island looking rock from afar on the shore in San Francisco.  Then my friend told me it was so pretty because it was covered in bird poop.  Poop Rock.  Reminded me a lot of parenting, pretty from afar but sometimes lonely and covered in poop when you get up close.

Don’t lecture me, I know parenting is wonderful, I love it but that doesn’t mean it’s not sometimes really hard and stinky like a rock covered in poop.

Last week, my good friend Cindy was battling pneumonia.  It was horrible and scary.  Her husband is in the military and away at the moment so she and her 4 children are on their own as she struggles to get well.  I couldn’t get to her, we’re over 8 hours from each other in different countries, but I wish I could.  Every time I saw her share something of her struggle I was moved, inspired, and ready to jump in the van (that broke down 4 days after I wrote this).  Through Facebook, I feel like I get to keep up with my friend and in some small way offer support.  I wish I could do more.  Yet even so sick and all the way in Canada, my friend reminded me of something incredibly important: we all need help from time to time.

Asking for help is one of the hardest needs to voice sometimes.  Or all the time.  People judge and are judged for even needing help and we all feel it.  There is such shame attached to needing help or even encouragement.  We’re all supposed to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and in made for TV moments, triumph over whatever challenges we face.  Alone.  Without resources.  Without bragging. Without getting anything we don’t deserve because by our own blood, sweat, and tears we paid for it or worked for it or fought for it all on our own.  We talk about the strength of the human spirit and applaud those that figure out how to go it without help.  And anyone that is worn out, broken down, or overwhelmed must be less of a person.  Even in a safe place, like The Leaky Boob Facebook, mothers (and sometimes dads too) may take the bold step to admit they are struggling but do so with trepidation, beating themselves up for being a “horrible parent, feeling like a failure” before someone else does, all because they find parenting hard sometimes.

This cultural attitude of glorifying individualism and self-sufficiency is hard enough when children aren’t involved, but when we become parents it’s not just us any more.  Our pride can get in the way of seeking out desperately needed help.  Pregnancy and childbirth set the precedent in parenting without help and while I love doulas and highly recommend having doula support for birthing women (I have for mine), traditionally the role wasn’t a paid position but one filled by a family member, friend, or a member of the community.  There seems to be a growing sense of shame in needing help from someone who isn’t designated as a paid professional.  We see it in infant nutrition all the time, mothers struggling but too embarrassed to admit breastfeeding isn’t working as well as it “naturally” should as she struggles with pain and a frustrated baby or families not knowing where to turn when they need an alternative.  In fact, the number one reason mother’s don’t reach their personal breastfeeding goals is lack of support.  Support = help.  But it certainly isn’t isolated to the area of infant nutrition, pregnancy, and child birth.  Parenting dilemmas such as health care, child care, discipline, education, financial stress, housing, safety, you name it, are often hindered by our own pride in asking for help.  As though needing a helping hand occasionally, let alone for a long season, is an indication of inadequacies or failure.  Afraid it reflects badly on us and our abilities, many parents forgo voicing their need for support and actual help because we know people will say things like “you shouldn’t have had children if you couldn’t handle it” (what are parents supposed to do, put the kids back from where they got them?), we suffer quietly and so do our children.  Sometimes it’s major roadblocks that threaten the health and safety of the family, particularly the children, others deplete personal internal resources and reinforce feelings of failing over every day aspects of parenting that may wear us down.  Either way, while learning to deal with hardships and having the experience of overcoming them on our own once in a while can be empowering, is this isolation really what we want to be the norm?

But the truth is we all benefit when we help each other, yes, even when we admit we need help and ask for it.  Not only individually are we strengthened, our communities are too.  It can be risky though, by admitting our struggles, we’re opening ourselves up for criticizing judgment or worse, being ignored and that is more than hard, it’s down right terrifyingly heart breaking.  Most parents would do anything including swallowing their pride to care for their children, there’s not a job we wouldn’t work or begging we are above when it comes to the safety and provision of our children.  That fear though, the fear of judgment or of not mattering enough for someone to even notice, can be paralyzing and parents may, unintentionally, cause suffering for their children simply because the cultural attitudes about asking for help have effectively silenced them for issuing the call when most needed.  Yet almost no parent would say their child deserved less.

Asking for help is something I continue to grow in along with knowing how to offer help, carefully avoiding judgment.  Including learning how to have grace without judgment for myself.  The journey hasn’t been easy and I’m still learning.  How does one master admitting you can’t do something on your own?  That you don’t have it all together and need others?  I’m not sure yet but I know it has gotten easier for me simply by looking at my children, I never want them to be afraid to ask for my help when they encounter difficulties.  They have not only been my inspiration in seeking out help when I need it, but sometimes my teachers.  They have shown me the joy that comes from helping and being helped, the agony that comes from pride getting in the way.  From communicating my need for help during difficult pregnancies to admitting I don’t know how to handle certain parenting situations, to finding a mentor in understanding child development when my children were driving me crazy to even asking for financial support because we lack the funds required to help our daughter reacher her dreams, though Jeremy and I work hard for our family, admitting we can’t always do it on our own and that we’re not an island but in fact need the village, our children are the ones that have benefited the most from us humbling ourselves to say three little words: “help me please.”  Accepting our limitations is the first step in being able to strengthen each other.  I firmly believe that in strengthening, supporting, and yes helping, parents makes for a healthier community that is stronger, more creative, and more skilled.  What a gift we can give our children.

My friend Cindy, has posted on Facebook a few pleas for help with her children so she can rest.  Yes, she could keep trying to go it on her own, likely prolonging her illness and a lower level of care for her children while she tries to recover.  There are risks to her not recovering, potentially problematic for those around her.  Worse, she could end up in the hospital and her children in the custody of someone else for an indeterminate amount of time.  It is to her health benefit, the benefit of the health care system, the benefit of her children, and the benefit of her friends for her to ask for help.  Her recovery will be aided and the community circles around her will be stronger as a result.  Relationships are being fortified as her friends respond to her pleas and offer their support not only physically but emotionally and spiritually as well.  I am so incredibly proud of her asking for help.  Knowing her personally I know that she is a capable, strong, and hard working woman, talented as a journalist and an attentive and loving mother.  This moment of needing help (and the next one that comes her way) are not a reflection of her capabilities, simply a moment where her humanity is evident.  And she has already paid it forward and will do so again.  Because she gets that we need each other.  We all do.

 

Traumatic Birth: Resources for Healing and Protecting Breastfeeding

by Tanya Lieberman
This post was made possible by the generous support of MotherLove Herbal Company.

Young Woman Biting Her Finger Nail

Having intrusive thoughts about your birth?  Flashbacks?  Feeling disconnected from your baby?  Do you steer clear of hospitals, or try to avoid talking about your birth?

Many women experience trauma related to childbirth, and estimates range from 18% to as high as 34%.  One third of women who experience traumatic births go on to develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

Yet despite its widespread nature, the experience of birth-related trauma can be an isolating one, as mothers are encouraged to focus on their babies and quickly “get over” their birth experience.  Trauma can affect a mother – and a partner’s – ability to connect with their baby, carry out normal activities, and can also impair breastfeeding.

In this post we’ll discuss traumatic birth – what it looks like, how it impacts breastfeeding, and where you can turn for help.

 

What’s a traumatic birth?

 

According to PATTCh, a birth trauma organization co-founded by noted childbirth author Penny Simkin, a traumatic birth is defined as one in which a woman experiences or perceives that she and/or her baby were in danger of injury or death to during childbirth.

It’s important to note that it is the mother’s experience of the events, regardless of what happened or the perceptions of other people, that determines whether she experiences trauma.

Here are some characteristic features of births that may lead to an experience of trauma, according to the Birth Trauma Association:

  • An experience involving the threat of death or serious injury to an individual or another person close to them (e.g. their baby).  [Note that it’s the mother’s perception that is important, whether or not others agree.]
  • A response of intense fear, helplessness or horror to that experience.
  • The persistent re-experiencing of the event by way of recurrent intrusive memories, flashbacks and nightmares. The individual will usually feel distressed, anxious or panicky when exposed to things which remind them of the event.
  • Avoidance of anything that reminds them of the trauma. This can include talking about it, although sometimes women may go through a stage of talking of their traumatic experience a lot so that it obsesses them at times.
  • Bad memories and the need to avoid any reminders of the trauma will often result in difficulties with sleeping and concentrating. Sufferers may also feel angry, irritable and be hyper vigilant (feel jumpy or on guard all the time).

Some common triggers, according to the Birth Trauma Association, are: lengthy labor or short and very painful labor, induction, poor pain relief, feelings of loss of control, high levels of medical intervention, traumatic or emergency deliveries (e.g. emergency cesarean section), impersonal treatment or problems with staff attitudes, not being listened to, lack of information or explanation, lack of privacy and dignity, fear for baby’s safety, stillbirth, birth injuries to the baby, NICU stay, poor postpartum care, previous trauma (such as sexual abuse, domestic violence, trauma with a previous birth).

How can traumatic birth affect breastfeeding?

Breastfeeding can be healing for many mothers after a traumatic birth, and may also repair the relationship between a mother who feels estranged from her baby.  But a traumatic birth may also cause breastfeeding problems.

A traumatic birth can delay on the onset of a mother’s mature milk (“milk coming in”), known as lactogenesis II, sometimes by several days.  This effect is well documented, and often leads to a cascade of breastfeeding problems including jaundice, poor feeding due to sleepiness, poor milk removal, and low supply.

While research on the independent effect of Pitocin on breastfeeding is not sufficient to draw direct conclusions, according to Linda Smith, author of The Impact of Birthing Practices on Breastfeeding, its effects on factors related to breastfeeding are more clear.  Pitocin increases the risk of other interventions, such as IV fluids and cesarean section, which are associated with breastfeeding problems.  Linda Smith also notes that induction of labor often causes babies to be born earlier, and “early term” babies are known to be at higher risk of breastfeeding difficulty.

 

What are some steps you can take after a traumatic birth to minimize the effects on breastfeeding?

There are many steps a mother and her provider can take to minimize the effects of a traumatic birth on breastfeeding:

Skin-to-skin.  Skin-to-skin contact lowers stress hormones, promotes the release of hormones important to lactation, and helps establish a bond between mother and baby.  Some mothers are too overwhelmed by their traumatic experience to practice skin-to-skin, but for those who can it should be encouraged.

Frequent feeding and in some cases pumping.  Frequent feeding and in some cases pumping, may help to speed the onset of mature milk.  If a baby is not feeding well, pumping can protect a mother’s milk supply and prevent or lessen the downward spiral noted above.

Find support to ensure that breastfeeding is not painful.  In research on the relationship between traumatic birth and breastfeeding, authors Beck and Watson found that mothers who had traumatic births and who didn’t have the emotional reserves to work through breastfeeding pain were less likely to meet their breastfeeding goals.  So finding someone who can help you feed without pain is important.

Focus on your motivation.  Beck and Watson also found that the mothers who were very determined, and those who were motivated by a desire to “make up” for a baby’s less than optimal arrival, were more likely to meet their breastfeeding goals.  They suggest setting short term goals and finding respectful support.

Supplementation when medically necessary.  A brief period of supplementation is sometimes necessary in order to bridge the time before your mature milk arrives.  Ideally this would be donor breastmilk, but it is not often available for these situations.  See the Academy of Breastfeeding Medicine protocol for supplementation.

Know where to get good help once home.  Since mothers are generally sent home from the hospital before their milk comes in, they should plan to seek help if their milk is not in by 72 hours (the period defined as normal for the onset of lactogenesis II).  This may head off further difficulty.

If breastfeeding doesn’t work out, connect with your baby in other ways.  As noted above, breastfeeding can be healing to many mothers after a traumatic birth.  But some mothers are truly too overwhelmed to initiate or continue breastfeeding.  In these cases, consider other ways to connect with your baby, such as infant massage, skin to skin, and babywearing.

 

What are some resources for recovery for mothers and partners experiencing birth-related PTSD?

Connecting with other moms.  Connecting with other moms helps you see that you’re not alone.  There are a number of online communities for mothers experiencing birth-related trauma, including Solace for Mothers, Birth Trauma Association’s Facebook page, and Baby Center.

Self care.  A number of forms of self care can aid in healing, including: getting adequate sleep, exercise, yoga, bodywork and massage.  Getting help with cooking, cleaning, and baby care from family, friends, or a postpartum doula may also help you heal.

EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy is considered by trauma experts, including the U.S. Departments of Veterans Affairs and Defense and the American Psychological Association, to be a front line treatment for PTSD.  EMDR involves thinking about the traumatic experience while experiencing a stimulus engaging both sides of your perception.  This might mean moving your eyes back and forth, listening to a tapping sound in alternating ears, or feeling a tapping on alternating knees.  EMDR typically reduces symptoms after just a few sessions. To find a certified EMDR professional, see the EMDR Institute or the EMDR International Association.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is a form of therapy which addresses beliefs caused by trauma and helps to counter conditioned-fear responses related to the traumatic experience.  To find a CBT therapist, search the websites of the National Association of Cognitive Behavioral Therapist’s or the Association for Behavioral and Cognitive Therapies.

Medications.  You may want to discuss medication options with your healthcare provider.  A summary of medication options is provided here.

Care for partners.  Partners can experience trauma related to childbirth as well.  Encourage partners to seek help if they are experiencing trauma

For more information, listen to Motherlove Herbal Company’s podcast interview.  You may also be interested in this podcast interview on traumatic birth with Dr. Kathleen Kendall-Tackett, president-elect of the Trauma Division of the American Psychological Association.

 Tanya Lieberman is a lactation consultant (IBCLC) who has helped nursing moms  in hospital and pediatric settings.  She writes and produces podcasts for several  breastfeeding websites, including  Motherwear,  Motherlove Herbal Company, and  the Best for Babes Foundation.  Tanya recently authored Spanish for Breastfeeding Support, a guide to help lactation consultants support Spanish-  speaking moms.  Prior to becoming a lactation consultant she was senior  education policy staff to the California legislature and Governor, and served as a  UN civilian peacekeeper.  Tanya is passionate about supporting nursing moms, and especially to eliminating the barriers so many moms face in meeting their breastfeeding goals. She lives in Massachusetts with her husband, her 8 year old son and her 1 year old daughter.

Breastfeeding after a C-Section

by Star Rodriguez, IBCLC- this post made possible by the generous support of Rumina Nursingwear.

 

During my pregnancies, I planned for a natural childbirth.  No medications, vaginal, et cetera.  It was going to be awesome.

Except that then I wound up with two c-sections.  So that was unexpected.  And scary.  And threw a big wrench in the whole breastfeeding thing.  I’d planned to have my baby skin to skin minutes after birth and after a natural delivery where I’d have a vigorous, hungry baby.  Now I was exhausted and itchy and pukey and I could barely move.  I had no game plan for this scenario.

My first c-section led to a lot of problems with breastfeeding.  The lovely IBCLCs who helped me fix my breastfeeding relationship actually inspired me to begin this career path.  In this article, I will pass along information that will (hopefully) help you if you are going to be having a c-section and plan to breastfeed.

With most c-sections, mom will get a lot of fluids.  This often translate into an inflated birth weight for baby.  Subsequently, your baby may pee a lot and appear to lose a lot of weight as it gets rids of the fluid (this can also happen if a mom has a lot of IV fluids and delivers vaginally; it’s just even more common in c-sections, though.)  Most doctors and nurses are aware of this, but some are a little less familiar.  Most hospitals have a cut off on weight loss for babies but not all hospitals take the inflation into account, some don’t.  If your hospital does not, and you are asked to supplement, bottles are not always your friend.  Nipple confusion and flow preference are real things.  Not all babies will have an issue, but we don’t know which ones will.  So instead of a bottle, try finger feeding, cup feeding, spoon feeding, supplemented at the breast with an SNS, or something of the like.  You can also ask if your baby can be supplemented with your milk.

Some c-section moms experience a delay in their mature milk coming in.  C-sections are not linked with delayed copious milk production, but traumatic births are.  Some c-sections can be very traumatic.  Also, c-sections are more likely to offer longer separations between mom and baby; some theorize that the less stimulation in the early hours can delay things slightly, too.  The moral of this story is to try to get your baby to the breast as soon as possible.  More and more hospitals are having skin to skin in the operating room for non-emergency c-sections.  If not, ask that your baby be brought to you right away when you are in recovery.  If your hospital has a lactation consultant or breastfeeding expert, see if they can come see you as soon as possible, too, to assist in that latch, especially since you might be tired or not feeling well.  If you still have issues with delayed milk, pumping can help.  Sometimes a 24 hour burst of pumping after most feedings can ramp up milk production and make your body get its act together.

C-section moms can have a lot of soreness.  First of all, don’t ignore the medications that they offer if you’re in pain.  The normal pain relievers prescribed in hospitals are fine for breastfeeding moms to take.  If you’re worried, ask your doctor or nurse.  They will be happy to check for you.  If you are sore and tired, it is often tempting to have someone else feed the baby while you sleep.  No one but you can make that decision, but in those early weeks, skipping feedings can be a problem.  If you do need someone else to feed your baby, again, I highly suggest not using a bottle.  When soreness is a factor, trying an alternate position can also help moms more comfortable in those early days.  C-section moms are often told to use the football hold, and while it is a hold that I love, every mom is different.  If you nurse in a different hold or position that works for you and your baby, great!  In my experience, about 50% of moms that love the football hold post c-section.  The side lying hold is also a great one (where you lie down and pull your baby in to your breast – Miranda Kerr famously released a Tweet of her nursing her newborn this way) but is not always possible right away, since you are probably going to find it hard to impossible to move.

Miranda Kerr breastfeeding

Support for a c-section mom is key.  You just had surgery, and recovery can be hard.  Breastfeeding naturally has a learning curve, and those two things together can feel so overwhelming.  Make sure people are around to help you out the first week or so.  My mother, for instance, made us dinner every single night for a week with my second baby.  It was the greatest thing ever.  I was so not up to cooking yet; I was still trying to figure out how to recover from surgery and handle two kids.  Just make sure that you are getting supportive support, and not unsupportive support and be willing to protect your boundaries, it can make a difference in your breastfeeding journey. 

Finally, many of the moms I see that are up and moving around regularly after surgery do better at breastfeeding.  This is totally anecdotal, and it could just be that those moms didn’t have it as hard as others for whatever reason.  But I do encourage moms to do what they can to feel like a normal human being again.  Walk if you can.  Those fluids that I talked about earlier?  They are still in your body, too, and some can hang out in your breasts, making it harder for the baby to latch well.  Moving can help your body to eliminate those  fluids.  Although I tell you to try to return to some semblance of normal as soon as you can, I am not telling you to overdo it.  Go with your body and how it reacts.  With my second baby, I was ready right away to walk after my c-section.  I felt great.  The second they allowed me, I had a nurse in there helping me up.  Anddddddd then I projectile vomited and almost passed out.  When I thought about it later, I was so gung ho to move nownownow that I ignored a lot of signs that I wasn’t ready yet (sporadic dizziness, nausea, and just a general unwell feeling.)  Don’t force yourself to do things too early and don’t make yourself sick or hurt.  Also, remember to eat and drink to hunger and thirst.  This will help your body to heal and produce the milk that you need.  You don’t have to force yourself to eat extra, just eat what you need.

And if possible, relax.  Be gentle with yourself and your new baby.  Having a newborn is challenging.  Having a newborn and recovering from surgery is that geography between rock and hard place.  Postpartum recovery is important not only to your health but in reality to your entire family, read this on how important taking time to heal birth is for your whole family.  To take care of your baby well you must take care of you.  Your recovery matters and your healing is a key piece in the continuation of your breastfeeding journey.

________________________ 

Did you have a c-section?  Did it impact breastfeeding?  If you had a c-section and breastfed, what helped you and how would you encourage other c-section moms?

________________________ 

 

 

StarbabyStar Rodriguez, IBCLC, RLC is a provider in the Central Lakes, MN area.  She provides services online at Lactastic Services and in person.  She also blogs for The Leaky B@@b and volunteers her services to loss mothers at Stillbirthday.

What is Skin to Skin Care?

by Kim Walls, mom and creator/owner of BabyTime by Episencial.  This post made possible by the generous support of BabyTime Episencials.

Kangaroo Care
The most classic definition of ‘Skin-to-Skin Care’ (which is the same as ‘Kangaroo Care’) refers specifically to sessions of 60 minutes of continuous touch between baby and mom in the first moments, hours and days after baby is born. First, baby is placed on mother’s chest immediately after birth, where the cascade of normal hormonal physiological benefits will occur. Baby will show nine distinct stages of bonding including relaxation, crawling (Yes! A newborn will actually wiggle towards the breast!) and rooting to suckle.
The latest research shows that while the 60 minute time frame recommended for classic Kangaroo Care is important, it touches on just a fraction of the benefits available to baby and mom from a more comprehensive understanding of skin to skin care. Even six seconds of skin to skin touch is often enough to raise the ‘love’ and ‘bonding’ hormone oxytocin, which could make breastfeeding easier and reduce the symptoms of postpartum depression. Additionally, it is within the first 48 hours after birth that baby’s skin is first colonized with the beneficial bacteria that will help keep her dermal microflora (skin surface bacteria) in protective balance.
The immediate separation that’s typical in most U.S. hospitals may not be as ideal as time spent snuggling together – skin to skin – for at least 60 minutes immediately after birth, and as much as possible for the first 48 hours. Studies have shown that even brain development is enhanced in babies who had ample skin to skin contact in those early hours and weeks after being born. Your baby instinctively knows that nestling into your chest is the best place she could be.
The natural colonization of baby’s skin with the same bacteria as found on mom’s skin, plus breastfeeding, are thought to help prevent allergic reactions in baby as she ages. Skin to skin closeness with Mom, immediately after birth and beyond, are critical to support breastfeeding and the proper microflora colonization. It also helps bring baby’s heart rate, temperature, blood pressure and breathing rates back to normal after the stimulation of being born. Babies experience stress as they go through the birthing process. After birth and for a long time after, the healthiest place to be is on mom’s chest.

As baby gets older, there are plenty of opportunities for parents to share increased skin to skin contact time, through baby massage, giving baby a bath, taking a nap together, or just playing simple games together (Peek a boo with baby in your lap and a board book!)

_______________________

Did you use Kangaroo Care with your little ones?

How do you enjoy skin-to-skin time with your little ones still?

_______________________

References:

Lozoff B, Brittenham GM, Trause MA, Kennell JH, Klaus MH. The mother-newborn relationship: limits of adaptability. J Pediatr 1977 July;91(1):1-12.

Lozoff B, Brittenham G. Infant care: cache or carry. J Pediatr 1979 September;95(3):478-83.

Morton D, Thierry B, Peretta G, Lankeit M, Ljungberg T, van Hooff J A R A M, and Scott L. The welfare of non-human primates used in research. Report of the Scientific Committee on Animal health and Animal Welfare.  European Commission Health and Consumer Prtoection Directorate-general; 2002 Dec 17.

McKenna JJ, Mosko S. Evolution and infant sleep: an experimental study of infant-parent co-sleeping and its implications for SIDS. Acta Paediatr Suppl 1993 June;82 Suppl 389:31-6.

McKenna JJ, Thoman EB, Anders TF, Sadeh A, Schechtman VL, Glotzbach SF. Infant-parent co-sleeping in an evolutionary perspective: implications for understanding infant sleep development and the sudden infant death syndrome. Sleep 1993 April;16(3):263-82.

Laughlin CD. Pre- and Perinatal brain Development and enculturation: a biogenetic structural approach.  1991.

Schore AN. Effects of a secure attachment relationship on right brain development, affect regulation, and infant mental health. Infant Mental Health Journal 2001;22(1-2):7-66.

Bates E, Thal D, Finlay B, Clancy B. Early language development and its neural correlates. In: Rapin I, Segalowitz S, editors. Handbook of Neuropsychology. 2nd edition ed. Amsterdam: Elsevier; 2005.

Doussard-Rossevelt J, Porges SW, McClenny BD. Behavioral sleep states in very low birth weight preterm neonates: relation to neonatal health and vagal maturation. J Pediatr Psychol 1996 December;21(6):785-802.

J Investig Dermatol Symp Proc. 2001 Dec;6(3):170-4.

Skin microflora and bacterial infections of the skin.

Chiller K, Selkin BA, Murakawa GJ.

J Appl Microbiol. 2013 May;114(5):1241-53. doi: 10.1111/jam.12137. Epub 2013 Feb 1.

Bioactives from probiotics for dermal health: functions and benefits.

Lew LC, Liong MT.

PLoS One. 2013;8(1):e53867. doi: 10.1371/journal.pone.0053867. Epub 2013 Jan 16.

Probiotic bacteria induce a ‘glow of health’.

Levkovich T, Poutahidis T, Smillie C, Varian BJ, Ibrahim YM, Lakritz JR, Alm EJ, Erdman SE.

Clin Microbiol Rev. 2003 October; 16(4): 658–672.

Potential Uses of Probiotics in Clinical Practice

Gregor Reid,1,2,3,* Jana Jass,1,2 M. Tom Sebulsky,2 and John K. McCormick1,2

Clin Microbiol Infect. 2005 Dec;11(12):958-66.

Probiotics: facts and myths.

Senok AC, Ismaeel AY, Botta GA.

Garcia Bartels N, Mleczko A, Schink T, Proquitte H, Wauer RR, Blume-Peytavi U. Influence of bathing or washing on skin barrier function in newborns during the first four weeks of life. Skin Pharmacology. 2009;22:248–257.

No Right Way- Sonnets of the tired mom

by the admins of The Leaky B@@b.  There are 7 of us admins here and none of us have made the exact same decisions in all aspects of our parenting and that is okay. Each parent is going to make decisions with the knowledge that they has at the time that works best for their family.  This sonnet is dedicated to those who have judged, from all of us who have felt judged.
This post made possible in part by the generous sponsorship of Boba, makers of the Boba baby carrier.

judging moms

How could you judge me?  Let me count the ways.

You could judge me to the playground, the grocery store and dance studio too

You could judge me for not being as put together as you

For how I feed my children: organic or not, frozen, fresh or fried

Homemade or store-bought, you can judge how I tried

How my breasts do or don’t leak, weaning, and where my child sleeps

How I catch their poop and if my child ever weeps

The birthing room, soccer field, and selected books

For screen time you can give me funny looks

Judge me for the guilt I feel and that which I don’t

Lay it on because my heart won’t give up hope

For the times I lost my cool

And the way my child drools

Don’t forget to judge for school

I doubt you can judge me more harsh than I

Go ahead, let your criticisms fly

How I long to be parent enough

Not alone and no need to bluff

Hitting walls and ceilings and poop to fans

Getting in and missing out on all the right brands

The car seat, yoga pants, if my child wants to hold my hand

All I forgot; registration, shoes, toilet paper, and hairnets

Being late and probably too much internets

The number of kids, the mess that is my house

You can judge the spit up smeared on my blouse

From your glass house the ways to judge are many

It will not change my loving any

Working out, working at all

Or staying home, you can clap when I fall

If judging me helps you feel strong

Feel free to do it all day long.

Your words and thoughts will not damage my will

Flawed though I am, my children know I love them still.

Growing always, I will be

Along this path of parenting.

Why I shared the journey through Sugarbaby’s birth

 

I could tell you women are strong, powerful, brave, self-aware, supported, loved, connected, and more.

Or I could show you.  With that, maybe you can show yourself.

On Thursday, April 19th, 2012, The Piano Man and I live streamed Sugarbaby’s birth (see videos of the birth here).  On that day there were over 105,000 page views on the live stream birth page and we know there were at least just over 18,000 participants on the live chat stream.  I never imagined our birth experience would reach so many.

When we found out we were expecting last fall we began to ask ourselves how we could use this pregnancy and the birth for good for not only our family but others.  The Piano Man and I tossed around ideas and talked about options.  Then we quickly fell deep into managing HG mode and the conversation ground to a halt.

But the desire was still there.  The idea of live streaming the birth tickled at the back of my mind and I found myself reflecting on the labor and birth videos I had watched over the years either preparing for my own births or as a student midwife.  Those women that allowed camera crews into their births inspired me for both myself and eventually for the women I supported in labor and birth.  A couple of years ago I saw a live birth streamed from a birth center and was drawn into the camaraderie of those chatting and watching the birth online.  It was a virtual experience of the sisterhood of the red tent.  Here was my opportunity to extend that experience to others and help educate others on not only home birth but birth in general.

Why do this?  It wasn’t to convince anyone to have a home birth or even an unmedicated natural birth if possible.  I have read criticism of others that have chosen to share their births with the world.  These women were called horrible names, exhibitionists, narcissists, careless, vain, and much, much more.  I knew that should I share my birth it was possibly opening myself and my family to harsh attacks from those that wouldn’t understand.  And I had to ask myself what if something DID go wrong?  Still, there was one thing I couldn’t get out of my mind.

Back when I was 20 years old and pregnant with Earth Baby, I never dreamed I could handle anyone in the room when I birthed, let alone a camera.  In fact, I thought I was crazy brave to look in the mirror while pushing to see what was happening on the other side of the blue drape that cut me in half and removed me from my own body. Yet I had some idea of what to expect in the birth of my first daughter less because of the childbirth education class we attended at the hospital and more because of the videos we viewed in preparation.  Videos of other women who had permitted a camera to capture their moment. Progressively over time though I began to see birth a bit differently and when I became a student midwife I experienced something that taught me even more.

My eldest cutting the cord for my youngest.

Birth is beautiful, mysterious, and intensely intimate.  Yet it is also ordinary, normal, and common place.  Birth has a way of unveiling a woman’s true inner strength where she can more fully embrace her own power.  Every day women give birth not only to their child but to themselves as mothers.  Birth doesn’t complete her, it just reveals another layer of who she is by daring to expose her without filters, without pretense, with raw power to herself. Even with the ordinary nature of this profound event, most women have never really seen a real birth and at worst their expectations and education have been limited to that of entertainment media and the often one-upping horror stories of friends.  For many at best they go through a class talking about birth but with only limited exposure to an actual birth.  So women often experience this life changing journey with no idea of the path so many, many have trod before them.

This isn’t how it used to be or even how it is in some parts of the world today.  Women supported each other, birth being more than an event that happened to an individual woman but rather an experience that united all the women of a community.  It wasn’t all rosy and perfect, but it was real and that authenticity allowed the power of birth to impact more than just the family embracing the new person.  Power, particularly power that is difficult to control, scares us sometimes though, and in an effort to make birth safer we lost that community aspect of birth as women began to birth in isolation with only those considered trained professionals present.  In that absence of community in birth, fear could grow unchecked.

I’m grateful for the advancements made in keeping birth safe and for those trained professionals that can help us get our babies when safety is in jeopardy.  I’m also grateful for the women that allowed cameras into their intimate moments of birth so I could receive the message that the sensationalized media versions of birth that would have me believe that my own body was frightening, that women aren’t strong enough, and that surrendering the control over my body to strangers was the only way to navigate the passage of birth safely are simply not true.  Because those women were brave enough to share I discovered my own inner strength to have the audacity to pursue a different kind of birth experience for myself and my baby.  With fear removed I could explore and inform myself as to what kind of birth my baby and I would be able to have.  Thanks to those women I went on to have an unmedicated hospital birth followed by 5 safe, low risk home births.  Thirteen years later I am now audacious enough to pay it forward and to share those truths with others.

The birth of Sugarbaby wasn’t quite as I expected but that’s kind of the beauty of birth, there’s only so much that you can expect.  By now I’ve learned not to have strong expectations about my birth but rather to be flexible and prepared for just about anything.  Still, never establishing a regular contraction pattern frustrated me and made it more difficult for me to relax through the contractions.  A stubborn baby with not-so-great positioning led to hip pain that wore me down after a while.  I had no intentions of artificially breaking my bag of waters but when I had been in labor with an irregular contraction pattern for over 12 hours and hip pain that wouldn’t let up, I felt my energy and endurance giving way.  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d give birth on hands and knees, it has been my least favorite position every time before but this time, with a difficult position for baby, it was where I found myself.  My ideal surrendered to my flexible strength for what I needed not only physically but emotionally and Sugarbaby and I had the right birth for us as a pair.

1 week old, photo by Kelli Elizabeth Photography

1 week old, photo by Kelli Elizabeth Photography

Some people don’t understand why we shared our birth and I admit it’s a little strange when someone at church tells me they just watched my birth video last week.  I know what I sounded like on that video, I know what they saw.  But that’s kind of just it, now we all know and maybe someone is less afraid, less detached, less unsure about her own journey through birth.  Which is exactly why I shared my birth experience.

Help them help you- new baby sign with ways for visitors to help

Sugarbaby, minutes old. Photo by Debra Parker

For my last 2 babies, my midwife had a piece of paper she taped to my front door before she left after the birth.  Announcing to visitors that there was a new baby in the house, it shared birth facts such as weight, length, name, date, etc.  That part was nice but what I really loved was the part about what visitors could do.  Informing them that a new baby means help is needed and that their visit should be brief, this little piece of paper taped to my front door encouraged those that loved us and wanted to celebrate with us to keep their voices low, limit their time, understand if we needed to be alone, and give them ideas of how to help such as offering to do the dishes, sweep a floor, run the vacuum, or take the bigger kids to the park.  In short, it helped our visitors figure out how to be the best kind of visitors and I discovered that I didn’t mind having people stop by as much as I did with my older kids simply because they helped more and were more understanding of our needs.  Knowing they already saw a notice of sorts on the front door before they came in made it easier for me to respect my own boundaries, excusing myself to rest or not feeling awkward about them asking if they could help with something around the house.

There are far too many expectations on families when they have a new baby.  Respecting the postpartum recovery and the important bonding that needs to happen with the new family member sets up families to continue on well for the long haul.  If you’re breastfeeding, this time is crucial to establishing your breastfeeding relationship and focusing on that will have a long term pay off.  Pushing for too much too soon, other people interfering with the bonding, can leave moms feeling burnt out and unwell months, maybe even years later.  Having true support and help to take the time to really heal leads to endurance in the parenting journey.  That, and knowing we’re not alone along the way.

So my gift to you is my version of this life-saving piece of paper.  Ask your care provider to sign it complete with the appropriate initials behind their name then stick it on your front door when your little one arrives and leave it there for at least 6 weeks (8 if you birth via c-section).  Be a good friend and print it off to give others that are expecting for them to put on their front door.  Don’t hesitate to point out the note, referring to it by asking if they saw how much baby weighed or how long she was and if they didn’t notice, encourage them to go check out the info posted on the front door.  It can be hard to ask for help yet not allowing others to help ends up creating isolation and robbing others of the joy of offering support and encouragement by helping. This little bit of guidance can help not only the new mom and family but the friends and family that want to offer quality support but just aren’t sure what is needed.  Take the guess work out of the picture and everyone wins.

new baby help sign for front door

 new baby sign and help list for front door

Ordinary Miracle- the labor and home birth of Sugarbaby, April 19, 2012

Jessica and Arden Credence (Sugarbaby) 1 week after birth. Photo by Kelli Elizabeth Photography

It’s hard to believe that it’s already been two months since the birth of our little Sugarbaby!  (Read her introduction here.)  As promised, here are the videos that we shot during labor.  Finding the time to format the videos for YouTube and uploading them took a bit longer than we had anticipated.  We apologize for the long wait, especially for those who had a sneaky ad pop up just when our Sugarbaby was being born, but as you will see, her arrival was a surprise for everyone in the room!  Except maybe Jessica.  I’ll give a brief synopsis of each video, but otherwise let them speak for themselves.  I left them raw and virtually unedited (except to find a logical beginning and end for each).  Enjoy!

In this first video, it’s morning and still in the early stages of labor.  Jessica had checked herself and was about 4cm with a bulging bag of waters.  This is pre-live-stream, so if you tuned in to watch the birth, this is previously unseen footage even for you!  Dancing and singing in our living room, and the participation of our eldest, Earth Baby, contributed to make this a sweet start to a very long day.

 

In this second video, also, pre-live-stream, we moved to the bedroom, spent time on an exercise ball, and we try something we’ve never done before to get Sugarbaby to change her positioning: the rebozo technique.

 

This third video shows footage that was near the start of the live-feed.  It’s a great example of the lighter side of labor, with lots of conversations and bantering going on between more serious contractions.  Of utmost importance is the conversation near the end where the birth team discusses their favorite pizza.

 

The more serious side of labor is demonstrated in this fourth video, along with Jessica’s favorite laboring technique, sleep imitation, which was rendered extremely difficult thanks to the unusually intense hip pain Jessica experienced.

 

For the final installment of this five-part video experience memorializing the birth of Sugarbaby, you will see just a couple of very long contractions followed by her sudden arrival.  Don’t blink, or you just might miss it.  At least in this format, no one can blame it on a Captain Morgan’s or a Formula ad popping up at just the wrong moment!  And you can replay it.  This fifth video also includes some very ordinary footage of what it’s like in the first few minutes after a home birth, full of sweet, tired and, excited family interactions.

 

Our deepest gratitude to our midwife Cathy Rude, LM, CPM from Katy Birth Center in Katy, TX.; to Anna from Momma on a Mission for live blogging the labor and birth as our media rep; to Deborah Parker, our birth photographer; to Sue Potts our friend and the RN birth assistant; and to all our daughters for giving us the greatest reason to share this joy with others.

It is our hope that these videos demonstrate the natural, simple and beautiful alternative to the accepted hospital experience.  It isn’t the right choice for everyone or for all births, but our home births certainly have been for us, and we wouldn’t trade that experience for anything in the world.  We chose to share this birth journey and TLB with many as a way of paying it forward for all those that have shared their birth and parenting journeys with us and have inspired us along the way.  If you would like to help us continue to be able to do so and to offset the expense of running TLB, you can give a donation via the donate button on the right hand side of the page but please know there is no obligation.  Thank you for sharing this journey with us, it was an honor.

 

Sincerely,

The Piano Man and Jessica