Breastfeeding (or more accurately- Pumping)

Just after delivering my tiny little baby I was asked if I planned to breastfeed. Again, this was something I had thought I wanted to do but under the circumstances I had no idea what I wanted anymore. I first asked if it was possible to breastfeed and it was quickly explained to me that the baby would likely not be able to start trying to breastfeed until at least 34 weeks gestation, more than 3 weeks from that point. I would have to pump in the meantime in order to increase my milk supply and provide the food for my baby which would be fed through a tube inserted in his nose that went to his stomach. I asked if formula would be better for a premature baby since it was scientifically developed so must include everything he would need to grow and develop properly. This was quickly shut down and the nurse who had been quite pleasant suddenly told me that in the best interest of my baby I needed to pump and if I wanted to give formula that was a decision to be made once he was discharged from the hospital. I had thought she had asked me what I wanted but apparently it was not a question at all.

I later talked to the pediatrician who assured me that either breastmilk or formula would help my baby to grow and develop, although breastmilk was indeed considered the better choice. So with that, I asked for an introduction to the 'pump'. It's a strange thing the pumping machine. Something that I imagined to be an intimate and bonding experience with my baby in breastfeeding had become a strange event where my bare breasts were exposed and attached to this awkward and cold contraption. Nevermind the fact that my baby wasn't even in the same room as I sat on the bed as this machine pumped away.

It was an exciting moment when the first few drops finally fell into the waiting bottle. My husband did not feel it was worth taking to the NICU but I insisted that they could make use of it. When we got to the NICU I handed the nurse my few drops at the same time as another woman, just out of the pumping room, handed over a giant bottle of pumped breastmilk. At that point I did feel a little embarrassed but the nurse insisted that my few drops would be used.

So my son was given his first try at my breastmilk- 1 cc. We were so excited when we found out that it seemed to sit with him okay and couldn't believe that within a few days he was up to several cc every couple of hours.

So the pumping room and a rented 'double' pump because my closest friends for the next several weeks. Every 3 hours I would attach my bare breasts to the same strange contraption and pump away. It was definitely not what I had imagined 'breastfeeding' to be...