Life writes special stories for pregnant women and new mums and parents. They are about everyday moments and outstanding situations, about wishes, expectations and disappointments, about bonding and relationships, about abilities, developments, problems and changes - in other words, about insights into "normal" mum or dad days. Each of these stories is worth telling.
I receive many stories from parents. Via this blog and online in my Coursesmy opinion Workshops and also in my Midwife counselling .
The mums wanted to share their stories. All names are anonymised. If you would also like to tell your story, I would be delighted to receive your birth report.
Amelie: "The stupid sentence from the gynaecologist stuck in my head"
Our Darius was born a year ago. The pregnancy was trouble-free. A little nausea, mood swings and a lot of tiredness at the beginning, but that's probably the case for almost all pregnant women. Apart from that, everything was fine. When it finally came to the birth, I was happy because I felt as immobile as a stranded walrus. And I was also sooooo curious about my child!
My breasts also gained a lot of weight during my pregnancy. Because I often felt tension in them, especially at the beginning, I turned to my gynaecologist with concern. After a brief examination, however, he reassured me and said that this was due to hormonal changes and was completely normal. And then he said: "But you probably won't be able to breastfeed your child with your nipples - you have inverted nipples." And this could also be due to shortened milk ducts.
I was thunderstruck! Of course, I knew that my nipples don't stick out like other women's, but are rather drawn inwards. On the other hand, I have also learnt that they can peek out curiously when my husband strokes my breast during sex.
Until then, I hadn't even considered that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed because of my breasts. So I sat forlornly in front of my gynaecologist's thick desk, fighting back tears. However, he only said that it wasn't so bad after all, because a baby could also thrive on a bottle. And besides, there would be some aids, little plastic caps that I could put on my nipples and that might work after all. I should ask the midwives at the maternity clinic to show me, they would know. But my world collapsed because I wanted to breastfeed my child normally. And not with some stupid plastic things.
The gynaecologist's prediction haunted me throughout my pregnancy. I was totally unsure and researched it on the internet, but all I found were these so-called suction cups, which are supposed to help the nipples stand up.
I have to say that this information really spoilt my pregnancy. When I went to the hospital to give birth, I told the midwife straight away that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed. I was firmly convinced of this by then. "You'll manage", said the midwife, however. "With us, every woman who wanted to was able to breastfeed. Don't worry about it now!" Her natural confidence was really good for me.
After Darius had rested a little after his birth, the midwife showed me how I could put my retracted nipple and areola into his mouth so that the little one could suckle. And he sucked! I was really happy.
I actually wanted to go home with Darius as soon as possible after the birth. However, the midwives advised me to stay in hospital for a day or two longer so that I could become more confident with breastfeeding. That was good advice, because the first few times I just couldn't manage it on my own. When Darius woke up from hunger and I put him on, he was so impatient for the milk that he would cry out because it wasn't flowing fast enough for me. Then I broke out in a sweat and the gynaecologist's sentence flashed through my mind again. And that was the end of the breastfeeding attempt. Darius screamed and I was absolutely miserable and felt not only helpless, but also like a bad mum.
And again it was the midwives who helped me. They explained to me that Darius would still have to suckle a little longer even if I had latched him on correctly. In principle, this is the case with all children, but in my case it just took a little longer. And that my little one couldn't make this effort with his impatient hunger. That's why I was supposed to put him on at the very first sign of him waking up, i.e. before he was really awake. Although I couldn't imagine that my baby would suck while he was still half asleep, that's what I did. And lo and behold - it worked. As soon as I took the areola between my thumb and index finger and stroked his mouth, my little one "docked" and sucked automatically.
From breastfeeding session to breastfeeding session, I became more and more confident, so that I felt able to go home two days later. My aftercare midwife, who I had already found as a precaution before the birth, came the same day we returned home. She praised me highly for the fact that the little one and I were managing breastfeeding so well. And her prediction that I would soon no longer have to breastfeed my baby half asleep was also spot on. Darius had learnt very quickly that my milk would flow into his mouth if he sucked patiently enough.
I'm telling you this story because I want to say that breastfeeding is not so much about your nipples, but about the right breastfeeding technique. The baby doesn't just suck on the nipples, but its mouth should surround the areola. Ask your midwife to show you how, just like I did!
And another thing I learnt: it would have been better if I had prepared for breastfeeding during my pregnancy. Then I wouldn't have been so unsettled by the gynaecologist's comment. It would also have been better if I had approached a midwife with my problem during the pregnancy. Even then, this time would have been much more carefree.
