When I had my third child, I initially had plans of staying home as long as possible. Late in the pregnancy, my husband and I split so that plan had to went down the gurgler. When 'Zip' as she is affectionately called was 4 months old, I had to return to work to cover the mortgage and everything else as adults with family have to be responsible for.
Zip was born very prematurely, so I knew that breastfeeding was of the utmost importance for her health, well being and development. I also had a plan to breastfeed till self weaning stepped in. I am a very big fan of breastfeeding, but not to the point of being a Nazi about it.
I spent my lunch times in the ladies toilet cubicle hand expressing with a sandwich and photograph of my baby girl perched on my lap. It was the only discreet place at work. There were only 2 cubicles, and I wanted to put a sign on the other cubicle door saying "Milk extraction in process, please refrain from No 2's for the time being".
Once finished I would place the bottle of life sustaining liquid gold in the staff fridge, always anxious I would forget and go home without it. I never thought it would be emptied by an unsuspecting very young, very tall male employee. I caught him just has he had emptied the contents down the sink. I wanted to kick him in the shins, the only place I could reach, but I called him an ignoramus of mega proportions instead.
With no back up supplies in storage, the debate raged on as to give up breastfeeding all together, now that she was six months old. In most people mind set, it's either one or the other and never the both to meet. My mother, dearly as I loved her, must have forgotten to stand in the diplomacy line, or they had ran out, when the traits were being handed out, was far more cutting, "Give up that stupid idea of breastfeeding, it's not like you're trying to win a medal" Ouch.
It was my father who came up with the ingenious idea of formula feeding through the day and breastfeeding morning and night. That way he said, you would have a proper lunch time and not look so frayed every afternoon. He had a point, I was looking a bit rough around the edges lately.
It was drilled into us at the hospital and at the baby health clinics by the lactation consultants, aka the "Breastfeeding Police" that as soon as you substitute formula for breastfeeding, it normally sparks the demise of breastfeeding in general, along with the breakdown of the baby's health, mental development, success in life, will also lead to the social degeneration of mankind and possibly the destruction of the Earth.
For each new mum, leaving the hospital, was handed the fate of the world right there with her swollen breasts and newborn babe in arms. Hence secret societies, hidden in closets all around the world, of formula feeders. Whispers can be heard of mum's wanting to offload the terrible guilt of "I gave my baby formula the other day".
Yet at the same time they would tell you that the breasts produce milk to fit in with the demand. During growth spurts when the baby suckles more often than normal, it's the cue for the breasts to produce more. So why not the other way.
For the next 18 months that's exactly what I did, breastfed her morning and night, which I enjoyed so much and my parents who lovingly looked after my trio of delight, gave Zip formula during the day. Just after her second birthday, right on Christmas morning, she didn't want 'mummy milk' any more, but a hug, a kiss and presents instead.
It can be done, to combine work and breastfeeding so it doesn't take its toll on the most precious of family commodities; Mum.
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