Nursing Noah

by Carla Pruett-Glass

I gave birth to twins, a son and a daughter, on November first, 2001. I am an avid believer in breastfeeding, having breast fed my two oldest children, daughters Allison and Hanna, and had already made the decision to breastfeed my twins, knowing full well it would be difficult. I had no idea how fulfilling it would be, as well.

After giving birth, my daughter, Rosa, was brought to me immediately and latched on to my breast without hesitation. I was overjoyed.

My son, Noah, was brought to me about fifteen minutes later. It was a disaster. He was what I latter learned is termed an Excited Ineffective. He would thrash side to side and root wildly anytime I brought him to the breast. The post partum nurse was inpatient, fearing Noah's blood sugar would drop, and gave him a bottle. I cried. I thought I would never be able to nurse my only son. The lactation consultant offered me a Supplemental Nurser. I tried in vain to get Noah to latch on with the SNS, but he never would and would get frustrated and scream inconsolably. I was told by the staff to feel lucky that he wouldn't nurse. "After all", they told me "you're going to have your hands full trying to take care of two newborns, much less try to nurse them both." I didn't feel lucky at all.

I took the twin's home and began what I thought would be a life long experiment in breast vs. bottle-feeding. I suffered from post partum depression due to the fact that I was nursing my daughter and my husband always seemed to have my son, giving him a bottle. I felt it created an abyss between my newborn son and myself. I made numerous attempts to nurse Noah to no avail. At 4 weeks old Noah developed a case of colic. His doctor changed his brand of formula and told me to stop alternating between the milk that I pumped for him and the formula. I was encouraged to give him formula only to soothe his tummy. I sighed, went home and made up formula bottles.

Five weeks later Noah developed a serious case of thrush. I felt like my world was falling apart. I resigned myself to the fact that he would never nurse. Noah got over his colic and his thrush, then developed a viral xantham; a rash and flu like symptoms. I just knew he wouldn't be so sick if he could nurse. His sister, Rosa, had never even had so much as the sniffles. Now, after being so sick I was devastated because then he wouldn't even take a bottle. I was sitting in my rocker with Noah one night shortly before he was three months old. I was crying, telling him how I wished I was sick instead of him. I was seriously questioning my decision to have more kids after my first two.

My tears were falling on his little face. He looked up at me and smiled, not a social smile, not a reflexive smile; it was a genuine "mommy" smile. Then he turned his head and began to root on my breast. I was so amazed that I couldn't breathe. I thought, do I try and face the heartbreak of knowing he cant nurse or just put him on my shoulder and pretend it didn't happen? I took a chance and raised my shirt. He immediately latched on and nursed for almost 15 minutes. I was ecstatic! Now, at four months old, I take it day by day with my twins. Rosa continues to nurse without any problems and Noah nurses exclusively and has had no further illnesses. I awake every day and pray that he will continue to nurse, and everyday he does.

I tell this story to let every mom know that it is never too late to nurse your child. I was patient and he came to me when he was ready. Keep your conviction strong, do what's right for your baby and never let anyone tell you that it can't be done. Good luck to all!