“But if that is what you have chosen, you kind of have to live with it”
I couldn’t believe her attitude. It is 1am and I have just spent the last 23 hours in labour. They give me some crappy toast and watery tea and send my hubby home so I can fend for myself. Now after asking the midwife for some help with getting the little munchkin to latch on, I am faced with this.
“What about a bit of formula for now and then just try again in the morning.”
Is she joking? After months of being told Breast is Best, this woman is tempting me into using formula just so she can have an easy shift. She even starts listing the brands they have like a waitress explaining the specials in a bistro.
“No, I am only breastfeeding. It is what we have decided”
“Well what do you want me to do?”
“I thought you could help me to get the right position, to get her to feed properly. I thought that was your job”
Ok, maybe the last comment was a bit unnecessary. But when you feel as if your insides are falling out and your eyes are so puffy you can just about the see the creature that has just been wrenched from you, being tactful is not a priority.
“Ok”
And over the course of the next forty minutes this previously fierce and uncaring woman helps me calm baby, is patient enough to help me to draw up milk into a tiny syringe and drip feed my baby bird, and settles her to sleep for me. I’m not quite sure why this couldn’t have been her first response, but we got there in the end.
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