Motherhood Portrait Series | Chapter Two | At Peace with the Pump

Intro

The Motherhood Portrait Series is a collection of photographs and honest stories from within motherhood. Each mama shares their story in their words.

Chapter Two At Peace with the Pump

“The pump is all too familiar. The whir of the motor, the drip of the milk. The spray as it hits the back of the flange. As I sit, expressing my breastmilk, I reflect on my breastfeeding journey.

It started nearly seven years ago. My first pregnancy, in which I experienced premature rupture of the membranes, or my water breaking, landed me at the Family Birthing Center where I was induced and delivered my daughter at 36 weeks. From the beginning we had troubles with breastfeeding. She couldn’t latch and was fed colostrum through a tube taped to my husband’s finger. The lactation nurse was the first to look in her mouth, where she found a tongue tie. It was thick, all the way to the tip of her tongue, as well as a lip tie. I knew nothing of tongue ties but later learned I have one myself.

Upon discharge it was determined my baby would not be going home with me. She had failed the car seat test and was admitted to the NICU where she would be monitored for proper weight gain. The hardest thing I ever had to do as a new mom was leave the hospital without my baby. I was sent home with a pump, and instructed to use it 8 times a day. Here began my pumping journey. I pumped around the clock, including waking up during the night. I pumped in the car, in a secluded bedroom at family gatherings, and in the mothers’ tent at the Renaissance Faire. I provided milk for my daughter until her first birthday. When my pumping journey came to an end, I had no desire to do it again.

I’m pausing here to note that my daughter spent 10 days in the NICU. Her ties were released the day after she came home and despite working with an amazing lactation consultant, we were never able to have a nursing relationship.

Fast forward, my daughter is now 6 years old. I’m pregnant again, this time with a boy. We’re so excited to grow our family. I carry him to term, delivering a healthy baby two days after his due date. He latches on the first try, and despite some pain it feels like success. He’s tied as well, but not as severe as my daughter was. We have his ties revised at 5 days old and the pain is gone. I work closely with two lactation consultants, learning the ins and outs of nursing. However, the diaper output is indicating that he’s not getting enough milk. We do a weighted feed and discover he’s not transferring well. I’m encouraged to pump, to protect my milk supply, while we work on oral exercises with the goal of teaching him to use his tongue effectively. This time I’m triple feeding. We nurse, he takes a bottle, and I pump. We repeat the process for every feed, it is exhausting and not sustainable. So I pump, and we nurse at times when he insists.

The pump is not a fussing baby. There are no kicking legs, tiny hands in the way, or struggles to latch. It is calm and rhythmic, the flanges lined with coconut oil glide smoothly. And yet I yearn for my son, to have him at my breast. His furrowed brow relaxes as he suckles. He finds comfort in me. His sweet face looks up at mine for a moment, he sighs and closes his eyes. He is asleep with my flesh firmly between his lips. I hold him for a while, savoring the moment. I lay him in the bassinet, and as I put on the flange, I am at peace with the pump.”