Nobody Smiles Like I Do
Dee Cole
Saskatoon Saskatchewan Canada
From: NEW BEGINNINGS, Vol. 15 No. 4, July - August 1998, p. 105
We provide articles from our publications from previous years for reference for our Leaders and members. Readers are cautioned to remember that research and medical information change over time.
I had a beautiful pregnancy.
I did not work for the last five months of my pregnancy. I had never
felt so healthy in my life. I registered for prenatal and exercise classes
and read many books on pregnancy and childbirth. The only thing I didn't
do was attend La Leche League meetings—I did not know they existed.
If I had known I would have attended all I could.
June 1, 1996, was when it
all began. At midnight my water broke (three weeks early) and my doctor
told me to go to the hospital, which I did at 3:00 AM when the contractions
started. After an hour of admissions procedures including an examination
of my cervix, it was announced that my baby was a footling breech. Within
seconds I had numerous nurses surrounding me, administering drugs, and
starting an intravenous line. Before I knew it, I was in a wheelchair
on my way to surgery.
I had prepared for a natural,
active birth. My husband was ready to be my coach, advocate, and protector.
We were going to do this together. Suddenly all power was taken away
from us and we were undergoing an emergency cesarean birth. My husband
and I felt helpless.
At 6:00 AM my daughter, Alexandra,
was born. She needed resuscitation and had quite a distorted head shape
(probably due to the way she was lying in the uterus). It was quite
a while before she was brought to me. My husband, Rob, was hesitant
to go to her and insisted he would stay by my side. The room was quiet
and I felt very sick. Finally they brought a wrapped baby over to me.
She was my baby, but I felt indifferent to her. I was in shock—a baby
three weeks early and born three hours after I was admitted to the hospital
with minor contractions. I presumed Rob was also in shock.
In recovery about half an
hour later the staff handed Alexandra to my husband and he immediately
brought her over to me. I took one look at her and asked him what he
thought was wrong with her. He looked at me and suggested Down Syndrome
to which I immediately agreed. We turned to our doctor and asked her
if she suspected the same. She nodded, but was not certain. We would
have to wait until Monday to find out for sure with tests. It was only
Saturday morning.
Rob and I had always thought
that breastfeeding was the only option for feeding our baby. I offered
Alexandra my breast as soon as I could. She was very sleepy and would
not open her mouth. Every three hours she was presented to me to breastfeed,
but every three hours she did not breastfeed. The lactation consultant
was off duty until Tuesday, but by Monday a considerate nurse suggested
finger-feeding her (feeding via a supplemental nursing system with the
tube taped to a finger). I had already begun pumping Saturday night.
Incidentally, during the weekend my husband was told that she would
never latch on and we might as well bottle-feed her now and save everyone
some time! We did not. I pumped.
Monday came and there was
a definite diagnosis of Down Syndrome. She also had a congenital heart
defect, which occurs in 40% of babies with Down Syndrome. The heart
defect was very severe and she would need open heart surgery before
she was one year old.
For seven weeks I pumped
every three hours, day and night, and Rob and I finger-fed Alexandra.
We are very proud to say that she did not have a bottle once. At six
weeks my resolve was low and I was ready to quit. It felt as if she
was never going to latch on.
While attending the Saskatoon
Exhibition that week, I came across a small area sponsored by the Saskatoon
Chapter of La Leche League that provided nursing mothers a private and
comfortable place to nurse their babies. I was pleased to find a quiet,
private place due to the paraphernalia I needed to use for finger feeding.
I picked up a meeting notice
and a copy of NEW BEGINNINGS from the display and discovered just what
I needed. I needed support. All I wanted in the world was for my baby
to nurse. Everything else had gone wrong and I just wanted this one
thing to go right. It did not seem to be too much to ask. I attended
a meeting and found the support I needed from the Leader, June. She
came to my house almost every day and spent hours helping Alexandra
learn to latch on. One day she latched on a few times, but then quit,
much to my devastation. We went back to finger-feeding.
At seven weeks, my daughter
went into heart failure and was admitted to the hospital. She underwent
open-heart surgery and had many complications. I could do nothing to
help her besides pumping my milk for her to have when she was able.
She was in the pediatric intensive care unit for 14 days. June visited
me every day. When Alexandra finally came off the ventilator and started
getting fed breast milk through a tube, the heart surgeon suggested
nursing her. I didn't bother explaining our previous problems to everyone,
so we tried. She latched on for 45 minutes and fell fast asleep at my
breast. I cried.
She continued to nurse. She
was fed supplemental formula through a tube, but I insisted (with June's
support) on no bottles. So there we were breastfeeding with oxygen tubes,
nasogastric tubes, catheters, IVs, and monitors. It was a miracle.
Alexandra is now 11 months
old and nursing beautifully. The pump is gone and everything is as natural
as nursing a baby should be.
I got my inspiration to get
through those last few weeks from La Leche League, from June, and from
those mothers who offered moral support. My husband was a great support.
He agreed with and supported me and my decisions during those first
very trying weeks. My mother was also a support, urging me to continue
pumping when the professionals were doubtful that my daughter would
ever breastfeed correctly. I wanted everyone to say, "Keep going, she
will latch on eventually," but of course they could not guarantee that.
Nobody could.
I now nurse on demand, throughout
the night, when and where Alexandra wants to and I am proud to do so.
June and the other women at LLL meetings look at me when I nurse her
and smile. But nobody smiles like I do! I hope other mothers who have
babies with special needs will persevere the way my family did. The
rewards breastfeeding brings are worthwhile for all babies, but are
needed desperately by babies like Alexandra.
Last updated Friday, October 13, 2006 by njb.
Page last edited Sun Oct 14 09:30:58 UTC 2007.
