Do all you can, and God will do the Rest...

So, the past couple of weeks have been quite the struggle for me and little Dylan...well, feeding him, that is. And it all started when we went on our little 2-week Getaway a couple of weeks ago.

Before we left on our trip, breastfeeding was great, a breeze in fact! I never thought I would like doing it before I had Dylan, and from the first time I did it, I fell absolutely in love with it. I knew from that first time that I would want to do it for as long as possible, which was hopefully a year. Anyways, so I had probably given Dylan a total of maybe 5 bottles in that time (the first month and a half he was alive) and he was great with switching back and forth between me and the bottle. Then, when we decided to take our vacation, we stared giving our little man bottles a few times a day, since I didn't want to stop and feed him while we were driving to St. George, or in the middle of a hike in Zion's, or while we were up in Snowbird or wherever we were. Bottles were just easier. I would feed him if we were at the hotel, but that was only a couple of times a day, maybe three times, the rest of the time...formula. And for some reason, that reason being that I have never had a baby, nor breastfed a baby before, I didn't even think for one bit that doing this would be detrimental to my milk supply, or to him wanting to latch on to me. I didn't think it would even affect us in any way.

Well, I was in for it once we got back from our vacay. On the very day that we got home, I went to feed hungry little Dylan and my milk was GONE! Well, not all the way, but pretty much. I started freaking out! I was sobbing, trying to get him to latch and at the same time trying to massage to get any sort of reassurance that I had something for him, and neither would work. He only wanted the bottle. It killed me inside. I didn't know how much I truly loved feeding Dylan myself until I wasn't able to do it anymore. I literally felt like I was a horrible mom, and that our bonding time while he fed was dead forever. How could I have been so stupid to not think about how giving him so many bottles would make my milk go down while we were on the trip?! Brett and I questioned ourselves everyday for a few days wondering why we didn't even think twice about it.

So after that first time of trying to feed him, I did a TON of research on how to get my milk supply back, and to get Dylan to want me and not the bottle. I started taking two herbs called Fenugreek & Blessed Thistle (recommended by mother in law) and I started pumping literally every hour for three days straight, and yes, through the night as well. Let me tell you, I would rather of whipped out my equipment to feed him right in the middle of Zion's National Park than do that again. It was pure torture, and the feeling of not being able to feed Dylan made me cry every time he got hungry. I dreaded it because I would try to get him to latch every time, and he was so used to the milk just flowing from the bottle, he had absolutely no motivation or patience to suck at all. So, he would last about two seconds on me then scream and I would cry with him as I got a bottle ready to feed him. It was the worst feeling. The thought of never being able to feed him again literally broke my heart. It made me ache inside. I would get so down on myself and it would bring back all the dreaded emotion that I felt from the last time we tried to feed. It was a never-ending cycle and it was horrible.

And then, things didn't change. In fact, they got worse. After doing the above for 4 days, I was still not able to get Dylan to latch, or to even want to be near me when he was hungry. Although I was starting to get some milk, I was at my wits end. I called a Lactation Consultant and we got the soonest appointment, which was the next day (Friday). We spent two hours with her, and she was amazing. She got Dylan to latch without a Nipple Shield (he never did that before, we always used a nipple shield thanks to the idiots who gave us one the first time I nursed in the hospital, and they never told me to stop using it) and she was able to get him to feed on me for a bit. It was wonderful. We left there feeling like there was a glimmer of hope, and with a list of about ten things I needed to do to build up my milk supply and to get Dylan used to sucking again. A few of those things were 1. Brett needed to massage me while Dylan was latched so the milk would flow (which meant he had to be there each time I fed, lucky him) 2. I needed to eat either a Large Frosty from Wendy's each day or a Large A&W Rootbeer from the restaurant because they contain a lot of yeast (oh bummer) and 3. I needed to pump after each time I fed Dylan, and I always needed to try and feed him on me first, and if he struggled, to give him a bottle. I knew the next few days were going to be a treat.

So, the next day we went to Lagoon with Brett's family and Brett and I brought the breast-pump and nursed every time that Dylan was hungry at the First Aid office, and pumped after each time he nursed. The first few days of getting him to latch were awful. We would try for about ten minutes then I would give up and Brett would feed him a bottle of milk I had pumped earlier and I would pump while he fed him. We did that all day at Lagoon, and all day Sunday through church (which we ended up missing half of due to that) and finally, on Monday, he latched on to me without fighting me. And since then, he hasn't really had trouble latching. My milk supply is, I believe, at its prime. I don't think I ever had enough milk for Dylan to begin with, because I was always feeding him almost every hour in the first month and a half, but I didn't think anything of it because I didn't know any differently. I now know that the reason he would eat that often was because he wouldn't get enough milk to make him full for more than an hour.

So, my conclusion to this story is is that, with patience, countless prayers, tears, thought and doing absolutely all that I could on my own to get what I desperately wanted for me and my son, I got what I worked so hard for. Heavenly Father doesn't just help us each time we need it, he waits for us to ask. And sometimes he waits to help us once we have done our part, then he takes on the rest. Even though this experience has been super hard and, at times, making me feel like the worst mom ever, I am so grateful for it. I am grateful for the lesson that I learned from it.

I am proud to say now that Dylan eats almost exactly like he did before, and I think he will continue to improve. I think we will need to give him a bottle once or twice a day, but my milk supply is back, and so is my sanity. I cherish each time I get to feed my sweet baby boy, and I know that even though I can't supply all of his nutrition, I can supply most of it, and I am doing all that I can to do so. And that is enough.