Struggle pt. 2

I've been trying to write this post for a few days now. It's been hard to the find time, and the words. This is a hard post for me to write, but I feel like this is something I need to share. Part 1 here.

I was sure I would find, at 5 months, that a had a 20 or 21 lb baby, but the scale blinked up the same number as the month before. 19 lbs. That's weird, I thought. I made a conscious effort to feed him more often, while putting off an introduction to solids. And then the soreness began. It was like the first week of nursing all over again. I was so tender, and when Z would latch on I would squirm and shake in pain. This was unpleasant. This was different. Why was I sore?
The answer hit me like a ton of bricks, but could I really be pregnant?! I'm not the sort of person to be surprised by a pregnancy. I am aware of my functions and systems, but I couldn't think of any other explanation. So, I took a test. Negative. I was relieved, not that I wouldn't have welcomed a pregnancy, I just didn't want to struggle again, the way I had with C. The negative result also brought one more questions. If it wasn't pregnancy that was causing my tenderness, why was I so sore? A few days later, the sensitivity passed and I quit troubling myself about it.

I weighed Little Z at 6 months. The scale hadn't budged. I began to feel nervous. Why wasn't my baby gaining weight? I started letting him taste things, figuring out how he reacted to the spoon and new tastes and textures entering his mouth. He seemed mildly interested, but it wasn't a daily occurrence that he would get something besides his mama's milk.
When the tenderness started up again, I began thinking like I had the month before. Was it a pregnancy this time? Again, it wasn't. At this point, my tenderness really began to frustrate me. It hurt so bad, I was scared to feed my babe. I would put off feeding him, and was quick to cut him off, because the pain was unbearable. I thought several times about quitting nursing, I felt like I just couldn't take it anymore. But I just couldn't admit defeat. And I couldn't take that away from my mama milk loving baby, it just didn't feel right.

At 7 months the scale told me my boy was still 19 lbs, and his weight hadn't changed by 8 months. That's 's four months without any weight gain. I began to notice how my once very chubby baby had slimmed considerably, as he kept getting taller, and his 19 lbs was more evenly distributed. At this point I began freaking out a little...OK, a lot. I was doing something wrong, and I needed to make it right.

When I felt I was at the end of my rope, I bought a can of formula. I was sure Z wouldn't take a bottle, so I didn't even try right away. Instead I focused on adding oatmeal and a scoop of powder to each jar of food I fed to him. I felt like it wasn't helping. In fact, I began to wonder if it might be hindering. I was feeding him solids and still nursing as frequently as I could, but he was still so thin, and always wanted to nurse. The final straw was the day he began crying as he had a bowel movement. It was then that I realized my boy was not getting enough liquid to process all of the extra solids I was feeding him. This is when I began trying to introduce a bottle.
I pushed it and I pushed it, but it just wasn't happening. I felt so discouraged, I didn't want this struggle again. I wanted everything to be perfect and easy, but that is not the way of life.
One day, as I was browsing blogs, I read a post by a friend from my ward who recently chose to quit breastfeeding for reasons of her own. She was very apprehensive about this decision, because her little boy, just days younger than my own tiny guy, had recently taken to refusing the bottle. The very last time she nursed her little boy, she prayed that he would handle the change, and that he would accept the bottle. At his next feeding a miracle took place, her little boy grabbed his bottle and drank the whole thing, like he'd been doing it forever. Her story gave me hope.
Since then I have prayed that I would know what I could do to help Z get the nutrients he needs, and that he would be willing to take a bottle, if that was what it would take. It still took a few days, but he is now taking the bottle!
I know that there are ways I could have brought up my milk supply, so as to have avoided this, and I tried a few. I tried bringing my boy back into bed with me, but we both had a very restless sleep, and I couldn't do more than an hour or two of that. No, I do not want to mess with Z's ability to sleep through the night. I tried nursing more often during the day, but with two other children to look after, that wasn't really possible either.
Breastfeeding is natural, and is absolutely the best way to feed your baby. But that doesn't mean it is right for everyone. Sometimes it just doesn't work out. As for me, I haven't given up. I'm just adding to it, and doing so lifts a great weight from my shoulders. Z already feels heavier, and it thrills me to no end.
I am not a failure. I am a mother, and I'm doing the best I can with what I have.