I didn’t think I had a story but the further I read the more my memory recalled what I stuffed away in order to push along and be okay. We had our first child almost eight years ago and that pregnancy revealed that I had hypothyroidism. While we stabilized that quickly during pregnancy, resulting in a fairly average experience, and a triumphant delivery with the midwife, doula and nurse at the IWK, it was the year following that was most challenging. 

Initially as I went off the medication for my thyroid, my levels rose, but a few months later they dropped quite low, which coincided with and added to a period of postpartum depression. During this time my father’s health was declining, we planned and had our summer wedding, then my father passed away a month later. 

My mental health was a huge veil over my life, I longer qualified for the mental health support through the IWK, and I didn’t feel like I had anyone I could talk to even in my personal life. For a period of time I also went on anti-depressants to help me get out of my own way and manage to care for myself on top of daily Momming.

Seven years later, as I approached turning 40, we were surprised with expecting a second child—only to lose them weeks after adjusting to what this new family could look like for us.

Another try successfully brought us our newest addition last August and truthfully it was hard to exhale and trust they would be in our arms most of that pregnancy. My doctor referred me for the IWK mental health support asap. 

Given my history I was really hoping for support during the prenatal period, but am fortunate to have it now. Those first few months of pregnancy were so challenging and I wish I would have opened up more, but I did have a few friends this time I was able to talk to openly about my experience. Morning sickness was intense that first trimester, I never trusted that it was going to be a successful pregnancy. I was officially 40 when my son was born, so I was monitored very closely due to my “advanced maternal age” further making it harder to relax and trust I was able to have a healthy, full term baby.

Then there’s the breastfeeding challenges! It took writing all of this out to remember what really brought me to my knees postpartum. Even if they had warned me, would I ever have been truly prepared for what that would be like? The searing pain of a bad latch? The cracked, bleeding nipples? The tears when you feel like a failure for struggling so much with such a “natural” process and basic instinct? The guilt when all this effort still isn’t helping your baby grow fast enough? The fear of not getting it right, not daring to try a bottle or even nipple shields for too long in case it messes with your supply or the baby stops nursing? The insane pressure that rests entirely on you? No matter how supportive a partner you have, it’s still all on you in the end. The dread with each painful feeding. The hesitant relief when a solution is offered. The slow settling once a tongue tie is released and baby and mom start to figure out this nursing thing. The pride and joy that all that hard work eventually supported a happy, healthy, chunky baby.

My second nursing journey wasn’t so successful in the end. It started off strong, I was so proud of myself, we had a happy growing baby. Maybe the tongue won’t be an issue this time? Baby happily took to the 

breast and bottles. I wasn’t going to bear the pressure alone this time and it was such a relief. 

Until my LO went on a nursing strike at three months. Turned out this baby also had a lip and tongue tie. Which was eight times more expensive to release this time around. And 110% more traumatic to manage post procedure as you stretch your wee one’s tender wounds every six hours for the next four weeks! And still don’t see any improvement in his desire to latch at the breast…in fact it’s worse. And now you really feel like a big failure for not noticing or treating this tongue tie sooner. How could you miss the signs?! Try as you may to pump and get your little love back on the boob, you just don’t have the fight left in you. You just can’t handle making your dear one cry anymore. Can’t live your life attached to an electric pump. Fear the risk of PPD if you took the Dom. No matter how much you tell yourself and believe “Fed is best” it still breaks your heart when your nursing journey is over. You learn to notice the sweet connection with your beautiful baby in so many other ways and know you are more than your milk to your child, but it still hurts.

—Katie Oster