Missed Connection - I didn't love breastfeeding...

For many women, the moment of being able to breast feed your child for the first time, is a moment beyond words. It is a magical connection that continues the bond from the growth in the womb, through the birth of life, to the natural nurturing gift of motherhood.

It is beautiful.

It is right.

And it was a moment I never experienced...

Despite the difficulties I faced through my first pregnancy, I still felt the incredible bond between myself and that little bundle of joy grow with each passing day. I watched my womb become rounder and fuller with each passing week, reveling in the changes in my body as my baby grew inside me. Nothing and no one could have prepared me for the fierceness of my emotions and attachment that I would feel to my unborn child.

The struggle through labor, the hours of pain and pushing, were all but forgotten when I held her in my arms for the first time. I knew then at that moment, that I had never truly known love. Not until I had cradled her warm body in my arms and stared into those tiny blue eyes. My heart filled with wonder and flooded with joy at the rapture of motherhood. That this tiny being was mine.

I knew from the first moment I found out I was pregnant, that I wanted to breast feed if I was able. My desire to breast feed was born, more out my practical nature, than my organic desire for that maternal connection. It just made sense to.

Having watched my sister-in-law, breast feed three children, I knew it was not this gloriously easy, natural, process. I knew from her experience and others, that even at the best of times it could be difficult, painful, and even frustrating, but the rewards far outweighed those tiny little nuisances.

So being the logical, type-A, person that I am, I took the course, read books, and talked to friends to prepare myself as best I could for the task at hand. I armed myself with knowledge, stocked up on nipple balm and nursing bras, and prepared myself for battle.

Typically, if you are breastfeeding, nurses or midwives encourage you to try to feed your child soon after their birth. Not only does this help the baby learn to latch, but it is also a bonding experience for the mother, or so I thought...

After my daughter was born and she had been weighed, checked, and cleaned she was given to me for my first attempt at breastfeeding. I remember not feeling any anxiety or nervousness, but feeling completely natural with lowering my gown with a room full of people and nestling my child's mouth against my breast.

I was prepared for confusion, awkwardness, or even frustration, but it was unneccesary. She took to the breast quite easily. It is a natural instinct "to root", that they are born with. I stroked her hair, staring in wonder, not quite believing that she was really here.

As I watched her suckle, her tiny hand on my chest, I waited, with breathless anticipation of that moment of euphoria, that intense emotional connection between mother and child that everyone had talked about. Seconds ticked by. I was prepared for the flood of tears, for the overwhelming emotions to wash over me. What I was not prepared for...was nothing.

I felt absolutely nothing. There was no joy, no exhiliaration, not even regret, or anger, or fear...nothing. It was as if I was completle numb to the whole experience. It was almost clinical. I did not give it much that at that time, as I had had a long and arduous birthing experience. My labor had lasted almost 24 hours and I had not had any sleep or eaten anthing for 36 hours. I just chalked it up to being so exhausted and famished, that I couldn't fully appreciate the experience. My time would come.

The next day, after much needed rest, I approached motherhood with the eagerness of a first time mom, still reveling in the awe of this little life, having come from my body. The time came around to feed her again. I had little concern or trepidation to do it again, having concluded that my lack of emotion was due to exhaustion. I picked up my bundle of joy, and nestled her the crook of my arm like the lactation consultant had shown me, and placed her on my breast. She latched on again without much difficulty, and I waited.....still nothing. I could feel the tenderness in my chest from not being used to the suckling, but that was it.

I surveyed my surroundings, and took stock of my body. Yes, I was sore from birth, but I felt more rested than yesterday. Why couldn't I feel anything? What was wrong with me? A feeling of shame washed over me... Was I not meant to be a mother? Surely, if I could feel such joy at the moment of her birth, such ecstasy over her sheer existence, that I was meant for this. So why could I not bond with my child? I loved her more than life itself. So,why did I have this clinical feeling of aloofness regarding the whole process. It was interesting, I could watch her and analyze the mechanics, criticize my technique and readjust, but I could not feel one single emotion.

As time went on, my feelings never changed, or in my case, never came. I continued to breast feed my daughter each day. Watching, waiting, and wondering when the connection would come. I was embarassed to talk to my friends about how I was feeling, or how I was not feeling anything at all. I loved my daughter more than anything in the world. I didn't want anyone to doubt that.

So, I scoured the books and reference material from the hospital. There were hundreds and hundreds of pages of do's and don'ts, and how-to tips, and product tips. But nothing touched upon my situation. At first I felt alienated, and outcasted. No one else I knew of, or had read about, mentioned feeling this way, or not feeling anything at all. There were helplines and guidance for the negative feelings, but nothing mentioned coping with feeling nothing at all. Nothing about how to comprehend and deal with complete ambivalence.

Over time, I realized that this was just part of who I was. It was not a reflection of who I was as a person, or as a mother. It did not mean that I loved my child less than anyone else loved their's, or that I was somehow broken or incomplete. I simply had my connection and bond fulfilled elsewhere. I did not connect over breastfeeding, and that was perfectly okay.

At the time of my pregnancy, I could not find any references or support systems to help me come to terms with my feelings, or lack there of. It is my hope, that by my sharing of this personal experience, that I can somehow provide support to anyone else who has found themselves feeling the same way I did. And to let them know, that they are not alone.