Meeting my baby for the first time

Picture this: a first-time mom, an emergency C-section under general anesthesia, a global pandemic, and waking up from surgery to meet my baby for the first time. I truly have no idea how many minutes old he was when I first held him, but I do know I wasn’t the first person to meet my son.

Still, when I finally did hold him, everything else faded.

Everything I remember about my first time breastfeeding my first baby

About five minutes later, my doula (thank God I had her during that experience) said, “OK Tyler, you ready to feed him?”

I remember very clearly pulling my boob out and placing my baby’s face onto it. Nothing happened. I tried again. I put his little mouth on me, and still nothing. He was completely asleep.

It felt like I was putting a potato on my boob over and over.

I had no milk yet. My body hadn’t caught up with the fact that I had a baby surgically removed from it. My brain was foggy, and I could barely move. I tried again about thirty minutes later, and still nothing.

That’s when I started to get worried.

My baby needs to eat. I am failing at feeding him. Panic ensued, but only briefly.

The lactation consultant who changed everything

After my doula left and we settled into our room in the Mother Baby Unit, a lactation consultant came in. And I cannot stress this enough, THANK GOD for her.

She gave me a nipple shield, which essentially exaggerates the size of your nipple so the baby can latch more easily. It looks like this:

She also showed me the football hold, where you place your baby next to you on a pillow so you don’t have to hold them while feeding. You just keep stacking pillows until the baby reaches your body. This is a pretty good illustration of what that looks like:

This position was a lifesaver, especially since my stomach had recently been cut open and the pain was becoming unbearable. Using my ab muscles wasn’t really an option, so the football hold was essential.

And then, finally, he latched.

The first latch

If you have never breastfed a baby before, oh my God, the feeling of the first latch is INSANE. It hurts. I remember it feeling like he was biting me, and every instinct in my body told me to stop.

But I didn’t.

I moved through the pain so he could get even a drop of milk. They say a newborn’s stomach is the size of a cherry, and they only need a few drops on the first day. Knowing that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

One tip the lactation consultant gave me was to listen for swallowing. If you don’t hear it, they aren’t getting anything. I had no clue if he was swallowing or not, but she said he was, so that was that.

And for the first time, it felt like we were actually doing this together.

The part no one talks about

Another surprise side effect of breastfeeding right after giving birth is that the hormones cause your uterus to contract. The same uterus the baby just came out of. The same one nurses push on every few hours after birth to help it return to its pre-baby size whether you had a c-section or not.

If you’re squeamish, now is the time to skip this part.

When your uterus contracts, all the extra blood that had been in your body to nourish your baby for 10 months comes out. When my son latched, blood literally poured out. It felt like my water had broken all over again.

That shocked me.

Finding our rhythm

We combo-fed with some formula for the first few weeks until my milk came in and my baby and I found a groove. Slowly, things began to feel more familiar.

Breastfeeding is a complete sacrifice of your body, your time, and your autonomy. At the same time, it is one of the most special and beautiful things I have ever experienced. Nothing can compare to the closeness you feel while breastfeeding your babies. The quiet moments where it’s just you two. Those memories are etched into the blueprint of my mind and body forever.

I breastfed him, and later my second son, for a year each.

Looking back, the advice from the lactation consultant and the support of my fellow breastfeeding mom friends helped get me there. I didn’t do it alone, and I couldn’t have.

What motherhood does to you

Motherhood breaks you open in ways you can’t really imagine, but it also builds you back up. You find a kind of strength you didn’t know you had. You do things you don’t want to do and realize you’re capable of more than you thought.

It isn’t easy and it doesn’t always feel good, but it does get better. You become a new, stronger version of yourself you had no idea was coming.