49. Flipping the Switch
forty-nine
Flipping the Switch
Leah
W e’ve been home almost a week now, but this is the first time that I’ve been alone with Luna. Dylan had to go to work since they are short staffed due to Jamie being on vacation. He offered to talk to Jack about him staying home with me, but I assured him I would be fine.
Now, I’m not so sure.
I’ve been trying to get Luna to latch properly for the past hour. Every time I get her to do it, though, it’s short-lived because my breasts aren’t producing like they should be. I keep telling myself that if she will just latch and start feeding that my milk supply will increase.
I’ve done everything the doctors have told me. I’ve eaten the foods that are supposed to increase supply. I’ve tried pumping.
Nothing is working.
I got these giant boobs that are basically worthless to me.
Tears prick my eyes because we are both beyond frustrated at this point .
Luna had her first appointment with the pediatrician today, and they told me that she’s not gaining weight like she should, and I feel like it’s all my fault. She was already early and underweight, and my lack of supply isn’t helping matters.
My negative energy must be affecting her because every time I hold her, she seems to be antsy—like she can’t settle herself.
Usually, Dylan is here to help with that. He’s always so calm, cool, and collected that it puts her at ease.
One week in, and I feel like I’m already failing as her mother. I should be her provider—her safe place. Instead, I’m the woman who has no real clue how to take care of her.
The tears start to flow freely as I look down at my crying baby.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her.
Standing up, I start to bounce her as I walk. That calms her a little, but moments later, she’s even more angry than before.
How do single moms do this? They deserve all the props in the world because I’ve been alone a total of three hours, and I’m already losing my mind. I can’t imagine doing this full-time.
We try feeding again, but this time goes even worse than the first. A knock on the door has me trying to compose myself.
When I open the door, I see Suzanne standing there. She looks from me to the crying baby.
“Hey, I just dropped by to bring you guys some food. Everything okay?”
Without warning, I start sobbing. “No! I can’t do this!”
She quickly comes inside and sets the food on the counter before coming over to me and taking the baby.
Luna immediately calms down .
“Okay, how do you do that?” I cry. “Are you and your son baby whisperers or something?”
“I’ve had five kids, remember?”
I follow her into the living room, and we sit down.
“Leah, what’s going on? Where’s Dylan?”
“He had to go to work. I thought I would be fine, but clearly, I have no idea what I’m doing, and Luna realizes how terrible of a mom I am.”
She pats my knee. “Oh, honey. It’s totally normal to feel that way.”
“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. I know that most women probably have these motherly instincts that kick in, and they know what their baby wants.”
Her eyes narrow in on me. “I don’t think that ever happens. Or at least not very often. Learning how to be a mom isn’t as easy as flipping a switch.”
“You sure? Because you’re like Supermom.”
“I didn’t start out that way. When we first brought Liz home, I was a mess. Don’t tell anyone this because I will completely deny it, but I dropped her.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Really. I had her on my chest on the couch. I was so sleep-deprived that I fell asleep for only a split second, but it was enough for her to roll off onto the floor. She started wailing, and I held her for the next twenty-four hours straight, convinced that I had hurt her. She cried for maybe five minutes, but I cried for hours. For the first few weeks, I questioned every decision I made as a mom.”
“How did you get over it?” I sniffle .
“I don’t know that you ever really get over it. There’s always that nagging voice in the back of your mind that wonders if you’re doing the right thing. But you have to just go with your gut. Don’t think about things too much. You know what’s best for your baby. Right now, your doubt is just speaking louder than your gut.”
“How do I get it to shut up enough to listen to my gut?”
“First, you need to go take a shower. No offense, but you look like hell. Let the hot water wash away the negativity.”
I don’t take offense to it. I know I look like ten miles of bad road, so I leave Luna with her while I go take a shower. I have to admit that it feels amazing, and taking my time does make me feel somewhat better.
When I join Suzanne back in the living room, I see that she’s feeding Luna a bottle of formula.
“Don’t be mad,” she says. “She was just hungry.”
“I’m not mad,” I reply. “Not at you anyway. I’m upset with myself that I’m not able to breastfeed her. Don’t they always say that breastfed babies are smarter and healthier?”
“Eh, I don’t think that’s true. Liz is the only one of my kids that I breastfed, and look at her. She makes my lie extremely difficult.”
“Maybe it’s because you dropped her on her head,” I joke.
She laughs. “Good point. Look, after Liz, I just wasn’t able to produce anymore. I felt awful, but I realized that fed is best. Doesn’t matter how they get there.”
She looks down at Luna before continuing. “But you have got to stop being so hard on yourself. Give your body some credit. It just got done making a whole perfect little person. It’s okay to give it a break and supplement some formula. She will be just fine.”
“I just don’t want to mess up.”
“Sweetie, you’re not going to mess her up. When you are alone and freaking out, you just need to breathe. Realize that she looks at you like you are the sun and the stars. Have a little bit of confidence in yourself, and she will follow suit.”
“What if I’m still struggling?”
“Then, you call me. Or Liz. Or Michelle. Or hell, even Andre. We will be here in minutes, and we will help however we can.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “You all have been so great with me.”
“No need to thank us, honey. You’re family.”
Out of everything she just said, those are the most comforting words of all.