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“Look how she is latching! As if she had learned it in the womb,” exclaimed a nurse after my C-Section delivery. My joy knew no bounds on hearing that. From pregnancy to delivery, the journey was a smooth one for me. Nothing could have gone wrong if the baby latched well on the first go. Little did I know what was in store for me ahead!
My husband and I had invested a lot of time in womb parenting. We took antenatal sessions with one of the best mentors in the field. I followed a proper regime too. Deep breathing, meditation, exercise, and a healthy diet were a part of it. I started womb talking at the onset of my second trimester. Since the third trimester, I daily repeated to my baby that she had to latch well and breastfeed nicely.
Despite such a good start, the initial days were difficult. I was not able to sit for longer durations. The lactation was sufficient, and the baby’s latching was good; however, she was never satisfied at the end of the feed.
Besides breastfeeding, I also fed her with pumped milk, but nothing seemed to work. Doctors and lactation experts guided us through, but all in vain. Formula milk became her primary food, which made me feel guilty as I had always wanted to breastfeed my baby.
My stubbornness to breastfeed her took me to consult a few more lactation experts and pediatricians. One of the lactation experts advised me to add natural galactagogues to my diet to improve lactation. The pediatrician also assured me that the milk I produced was enough for my baby; what the baby needed was comfort. I learned that she cried after every feed because I used to take away her comfort spot.
With renewed learning, hope, and unflinching determination, I resumed my breastfeeding journey. No matter how much my stitches would hurt to feed her the whole day or how exhausted I had been after all those sleepless nights, I did not stop trying. I would rock her after every feed to prevent her from crying, and it worked like magic. The pediatrician was right, and her suggestions worked for me. I brought down her formula feeds from 5 times a day to 2 times a day in one month. That was a significant achievement for me. When everyone in my family, friends, and well-wishers told me not to worry and feed her with formula milk, my daughter and I did not stop trying. Neither did she stop latching, nor did she get used to feeding on the bottle, as if she knew that I was trying hard. Had my little angel not been so supportive, my journey would have been incomplete.
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