Reading this thread has made me a little sad, even after 40 years. I desperately wanted to breast feed.
My son was born in a military hospitial Feburary, 27 1967 at 6:04 PM. I was 19 years old.
I had been left completely alone, except for a nurse popping in once an hour, for the previous 18 hours. (No visitors allowed in he labor room)
On one of those quick visits by the nurse-with-icy-hands, I told her I was planning to breast feed. She was horrified! She told me I was much to young too do it successfully, and that I would be risking my child’s very life by attempting to do so.
A few hours later, the doctor arrived. He’d obviously already heard of my foolish intention. He came into the room loaded for bear. He told me, point blank, that I would fail. He said if I continued to insist, that he would, reluctantly, ok it with the nursery.
My son was born, then whisked away. I wasn’t allowed to touch him first.
I was taken to my room and sedated. Four hours later, I called the nurse to ask when they would bring him to me. She told me that he wasn’t allowed out of the nursery for 24 hours.
So, at 6:00 Pm the next day, I asked again. He was, reluctantly, brought in. The nurse who brought him said, “So you’re the one who wants to mess up my schedule, huh?” Then she told me I could try to put him to breast, but she’d just fed him so he probably wouldn’t suck. She was, of course, correct.
I tried again later that evening, with better success. I had no help or instruction from anyone. I was very proud.
I asked that he be brought to me next time he woke up. I went to sleep about 9:00 PM. I woke in horrible pain from breast engorgment at 3:00 AM. I walked down the hall to the nurses station and asked why he hadn’t been brought to be. She didn’t know. She called the nursery and was told they thought I needed my rest.
I was in the hospital for 7 days. (Military policy) By the 6th day, he was nursing for about 5 minutes per side, every 3-4 hours, with some difficulty.
The doctor told me to bring him in in five days to evaluate our progress. It was very obvious he still expected us to fail.
In five days, barely looking at him, the doctor said he was not thriving, and that I must put him exclusively on formula that very minute.
From that day on, my baby had the worst colic ever. He vomited part of every bottle, he cried for hours on end. He finally got better, when, at 7 months, he refused to accept a bottle any more. I started him on a sippy cup with whole milk and he did much better.
I admire all of you for what you have done, but more, I admire the medical community for pulling it’s collective head out.
