Boob envy

Several of my friends have recently given birth to healthy, hearty, full-term babies. Although there are numerous reasons for me to be jealous of their smooth transitions into motherhood, it is the ease with which they are able to immediately breastfeed their seven pound babies that makes me crazy. Their kids are born strong enough and with the coordination to do it. Those babies don't know any other way to get fed.

But, breasfeeding a preemie is difficult at best. I read this early on, but did not fully comprehend what that meant. I really thought that we'd be the exception, especially since early on, Alex seemed so amenable to the idea. But, he's been bottle fed for over a month now (I can't be there 24 hours a day) and getting him to work for lunch is proving to be pretty impossible. 

There are a number of reasons for this. Obviously, he's used to getting milk just poured into his mouth and the effort it takes to get my milk moving is so frustrating for him, he flails and screams until I give up and give him a bottle. Second, there have been a lot of interruptions to our transition from bottle to breast. If he is not gaining weight, or even losing weight, I stop. It's more important for him to grow, and breastfeeding burns more calories than it provides. If they are trying to transition him from the isolette to the open crib (where he is expected to maintain his own body temperature and continue to gain weight), I stop so that I am not contributing to him failing this test and being sent back into the isolette.

Mind you, he's still getting my milk (I pump and bring it to the hospital) and I'm dedicated to keeping him off of formula if I can help it.  But, I really want both the bond of breastfeeding and the convenience of being off the pump (there's a lot of cleaning involved with bottles).  As with every other aspect of my pregnancy and subsequent motherhood, however, I may have to accept that normal is just not in the cards for me.

I'm torn about seeing the hospital lactation consultants about this. They are, as so many women who have been consulted by them called them, the "breastfeeding nazis". They grab your tit, grab your baby's head, and mash them together violently. They tell you to relax while provoking your three pound peanut into a frenzy of frustration. They are at constant war with the nursing staff, whose job it is to get the baby big enough to leave, now matter how the baby is fed. I really want Alex to get enough to eat so he can join the ranks of babies his [adjusted] age. But, I want that to happen in a manner that he does not and I'm not convinced that the lactation consultants will be sympathetic to my situation.