success
OUR
story
Breastfeeding Imogen got off to a
bad start. My nipples were far from
the long, perky nipples shown on
the breastfeeding how-to film at
the birthing centre where I
recovered from labour. So Imogen’s
latch was poor, and despite my
concerns and the abrasions that
appeared after her first few feeds, I
was discharged with what the
attending midwives felt was a
“sufficient latch.”
Within a few days however, the abrasions
turned to open sores and, as each feed
approached, I was consumed with anxiety,
facing yet another session of painful feeding.
After a week, I was at my wits’ end, and
unsure of how I could continue breastfeeding.
At that point, my midwife suggested nipple
shields. I thought those ‘prosthetic nipples’, as I
took to calling them, were heaven-sent. Feeds
were immediately pain-free.
At my next post-natal appointment, I was
feeling much better and my nipples were
starting to heal. I asked my midwife when I
should consider weaning Imogen off the
shields. She told me I needn’t worry about that
for a while.
Imogen’s weight-gain at the following visit
wasn’t that great, so my midwife put me on a
plan that consisted of breastfeeding on one
breast and pumping simultaneously on the
other, then bottle-feeding Imogen the pumped
milk before returning her to the pumped breast
to finish off what might remain. The following
week was challenging, and I was now faced
with the extra hassle of washing and sterilising
the pump and bottle, as well as the shields, not
to mention what I found to be the nearimpossible task of pumping and feeding at the
same time. Thankfully my parents were visiting
from overseas that week, and they provided
08 | La Leche League NZ
me with the emotional and practical support I
needed to keep up this routine. And Imogen’s
next weigh-in proved that the hassle had been
worth it; she had gained 220g.
After my parents left, I found it more difficult
to stick to the plan, and bolstered by Imogen’s
previous success, I did far less pumping and
bottle-feeding the following week. At our
discharge appointment with the midwife,
however, I was confronted with the
consequences of my lax approach to my
prescribed feeding plan. Imogen had gained
only 50g. My midwife gave me a grave look,
and spoke - in no uncertain terms - four words
I will never forget: “Your baby is starving.”
I felt the walls come crashing down around me
and I collapsed into a chair, weeping. Through
my tears, I looked at my precious child and
wailed. Every time she cried, every time she’d
refused to settle... she’d been hungry all along
and had been trying to tell me. This realisation
dawned on me, and until then I’d never felt
such horror.
My midwife told me it was time to start
supplementing with formula. She went straight
to the chemist, returned, and mixed Imogen’s
first bottle. I cried as I fed it to her and
watched her gobble up 140ml before falling
into the longest sleep she’d had since birth.
Although my midwife assured me I wouldn’t
have to give up breastfeeding completely, she
said formula would just have to be a fact of life
from then on. She explained that some babies
are poor feeders, and some women just don’t
produce enough milk (galactogogues, she
assured me, would be ineffective at this point).
Her words, meant to assuage, were little
consolation. Besides feeling immensely guilty
and selfish for having strayed from the feeding/
pumping plan, I was faced with the fact that
my body had failed me. And so the tears just
wouldn’t stop falling. I’d prepared myself,
emotionally and mentally, for the many
obstacles I might encounter during pregnancy
By Kristen Liesch-Goodkey, Auckland
and labour, but after Imogen’s wonderful birth,
I had been filled with a sense of joy and
empowerment. I had not prepared myself for
the possibility of the inability to feed my baby.
And so I mourned.
Once I’d gathered myself, I rang my mother in
Canada and told her what had happened.
My words: “We have to supplement with
formula” seemed to reflect a resignation I
didn’t feel. As I recounted the events, I found
myself rejecting what my midwife had told me,
and I became determined to get a second
opinion. That night, I checked my local LLL
website and found there was a coffee group
meeting the next morning.
At the meeting, I poured my heart out to
Barbara, the Leader. She listened quietly as I
cried through the story of what had happened.
Immediately, she offered kind words of support
and encouragement, and she made some
practical suggestions: as much skin-to-skin time
as possible, consistently offering the bare
breast, feeding on-demand to increase my
supply - she seemed certain that if I could
wean Imogen from the nipple shield, our
problems would disappear.
The following six days, I stopped formulafeeding. They were a marathon of skin-to-skin
time and near-constant feeding. My attempts
to entice Imogen to take my bare breast,
however, were met with refusal, tears, and
screaming. And I couldn’t shake those words:
“Your baby is starving.”
At her next weigh-in, I was discouraged. Her
two-week total was just over 170g, not
enough for the Plunket nurse to give us the
nod. We were to come back for another check
the following week.
I continued to feed Imogen on-demand, which
meant feeding for more than twelve hours per
day. Her feeds seemed frantic. She would twist
and squirm at the breast, claw at me, and
come away crying. The nipple shield never
Aroha | January - February 2013 | Volume 15 | Issue 1
streams of tears, I read descriptions of how
nipple shields became a thing of the past the
moment babies latched onto the bare breast
for the first time. And so I found the inspiration
I needed to keep trying.
The next day, I made an appointment with a
lactation consultant at our local Plunket Family
Centre. There, I was given new advice. First,
she recommended I switch to the largest size
of nipple shield available. I hadn’t been able to
get Imogen to latch onto the bare breast
because she wouldn’t open her mouth wide
enough. The bigger shields, I was assured,
would solve that problem. Galactogogues were
the next tip. I was confused because I had been
told that supplements would only help my
supply up to six weeks post-partum. The
consultant told me I had been given incorrect
information. So, armed with some new
strategies, we headed home.
It took a while for Imogen to get used
to the larger shields, but she was definitely
opening her mouth wider, and her latch
Kristen and Imogen (seven and a half months)
felt better, as well. And it only took two days
for the fenugreek and blessed thistle
capsules to do their job. My milk was soon
overflowing from the shields. I felt a new sense
of hope and started actually believing that my
dream of exclusive breastfeeding would
come true.
Now that my supply had increased,
I discontinued formula top-ups, and soon
found Imogen didn’t need pumped top-ups
either. When her four-month birthday came
around, I felt more relaxed than ever about our
feeding situation. And a few days later, it
showed any signs of milk, and I rarely seemed
to hear swallowing sounds, so I feared Imogen
was only getting drops at a time.
A visit from a friend helped me turn things
around. A nurse and mother of two, she saw
what was happening and encouraged me to
use the formula. She told me there was little I
could do if Imogen was constantly hungry. And
so she drank 220ml and slept for a miraculous
four hours.
That was the first of 30 days of an intense
feeding regimen. I still hadn’t abandoned my
hopes of exclusively breastfeeding Imogen - I
would get there! And so I fed her at the breast,
topped her up with formula, pumped my
breasts of any remaining milk, fed her that milk
- wash, rinse, repeat. For a month, I recorded
everything I could: what time she fed, how
long she was at each breast, her behaviour at
the breast, how many milliliters of pumped
milk she drank, how many of formula,
Issue 1 | Volume 15 | January - February | Aroha
how much I was able to pump from each
breast, when she slept, how long she slept...
I was trying to establish a sense of control
over a situation that seemed to be wildly out
of control.
In the meantime, I sought the support and
encouragement of Barbara, my LLL Leader, and
the other mothers at the coffee group.
Now nearly three months old, Imogen had
gained sufficient weight since her last check,
but I knew that I couldn’t keep up with the
breastfeeding/bottle-feeding/formula-feeding/
pumping routine that had taken over my life.
I felt ready to give up; that I had given it my
best shot, but that I was exhausted. Once
again, however, I went to the LLL website in
search of any new ideas for weaning Imogen
off the nipple shields. While I didn’t find any
suggestions that I hadn’t already tried, I did
find success stories written by mothers who
had faced our type of situation. Through
happened. We were lying in bed first thing in
the morning. I was trying to eke out a few
more minutes of sleep. All of a sudden, she
latched onto the bare breast all on her own.
I looked down at her. I was afraid to breathe
lest I break the spell. She drank her fill. She
paused after a while and came away to look
up at me. She smiled her impish grin, then
buried her face back in my breast.
Since then, Imogen latches on and nurses at
the bare breast as though she’s been doing it
all along.
Today Imogen is seven and a half months old,
and the time we spend together while she
breastfeeds is still magical and I am so thankful
for the support I got from my husband, my
friends, as well as my La Leche League Leader
and other members of our LLL group. I hope
our story can inspire other mothers who
struggle, just as other success stories inspired
me to carry on.
La Leche League NZ | 09