breastfeeding s · pregnancy through to weaning call our National Helpline 0845 120 2918 LLLGB Office 0115 7270579 Websites to find your local LLL contact or submit a Help Form La

mattersmatters July/August 2015

# 208

breastfeeding

Mothering through breastfeeding

Mothering through breastfeeding

Breastfeeding and going back to work

Breastfeeding and going back to work

Why come to LLL Why come to LLL

meetings?meetings? La Leche League GB

mother-to-mother support

for breastfeeding

La Leche League GB

For breastfeeding support from pregnancy through to weaning call our

National Helpline

0845 120 2918

LLLGB Office 0115 7270579

Websites

www.laleche.org.uk to find your local LLL contact

or submit a Help Form

www.llli.org La Leche League International for breastfeeding

information

Editor: Helen Lloyd Co-Editor: Justine Fieth Contributing Editors: Emma Gardner,

Lisa Hassan-Scott Graphic Design: Benaifer Bhandari Editorial Consultant: Ginny Eaton

Advertising Manager: Shannon Carr-Shand

Adverts to place an advert or see a copy of our ethical policy

Email: [email protected]

Contributions Breastfeeding Matters is YOUR magazine, we always need your letters and stories. Photos need to be clear and good quality—please send high resolution digital

photos to the Editors at [email protected]

Personal views expressed here are not necessarily those of La Leche League. All submissions will be

acknowledged and are subject to editing. All articles published in Breastfeeding Matters become the

property of La Leche League. LLLGB does not endorse products advertised or other organisations mentioned in Breastfeeding Matters or

items included in the mailing.

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National Helpline 0845 120 2918

Photo courtesy of Rhiannon Carmichael LLL Newport

inside…

Mothers’ Stories Mothering through breastfeeding—the sequel ........... 5 Breastfeeding beyond a year and natural weaning ..... 11 Why come to LLL meetings? ...................................... 16 Believing in yourself and trusting your instincts .......... 18 Breastfeeding and going back to work ....................... 28 Doing things differently ............................................... 34 Homecoming ............................................................... 38

In Every Issue Editor’s letter .............................................................. 4 Lisa Hassan Scott: A quiet life ................................... 22 Mothers on…breastfeeding and work ......................... 24 Letters ........................................................................ 32

News and Events Becoming a Leader .................................................... 15 Become a member ..................................................... 27 Book Review .............................................................. 31 How to get help from La Leche League GB ............... 36 New Leaders .............................................................. 36 LLLGB Shop .............................................................. 37

Helen

Editor’s letter

Welcome to our summer issue of Breastfeeding Matters! Each year in August we celebrate World Breastfeeding Week, and this year‘s theme is ―work and breastfeeding‖. Very loosely we‘re marking that in this issue, too. The world was

quite a different place when our seven Founders set up LLL in the 1950s, and many families operated a very traditional model, with a working father and a mother who was at home with her babies through infancy and beyond. Now we can see so many sizes and shapes of families, and such a range of economic circumstances, and so many of us have to reconcile our need to earn money with our pressing, intensely felt need to be with our babies. Personally, I find it a constant and exhausting battle, though of course it‘s worth it. All of our Leaders are volunteers so the time they put into supporting mothers is given for free, driven by a belief in the value of breastfeeding and the values of LLL, but it‘s yet another thing to juggle (which is why you have to forgive us when we host meetings in messy houses!). So we have stories illustrating all sides, from Nicky‘s fears about returning to work, through a range of mothers‘ tips on how they made the practicalities work, through to Alison‘s tale of returning to work briefly, but finding it just wasn‘t right for her and her family. We also look at a new book on breastfeeding and working, and we have a beautiful poem on a mother being reunited with her baby after a day away. It‘s not all work, though. We‘ve got stories of newborns and older nurslings, and combinations of the two. LLL members are such a broad group, and everyone has their own story to tell—so please do consider sharing yours, even if you think it‘s not very exciting.

Helen Lloyd is a Leader in Bath and is mum to Isaac (4) and Aneurin (1).

Co-Editor Justine Fieth is a Leader in Cambridge and is mum to Josh (11) and Kezia (7).

Join us to chat on Facebook at www.facebook.com/breastfeedinglllgb

In the early years the baby has an intense need to be with his

mother which is as basic as his need for food. (One of the ten LLL philosophy statements)

Mothering through

breastfeeding

– the sequel

Caroline Cole

Caroline tells us about her tandem nursing experience, and

how breastfeeding has always felt like the natural choice for

her and her babies.

Words can never do justice to what my life has been like since

having children.

As write this, my son and daughter‘s tandem nursing days are drawing to a close, as Ewan is gradually and naturally weaning from the breast. He is big brother to Tessa, now twenty months who nurses day and night. Words can never do justice to what my life has been like since having children; they have been the most eventful, joyous, challenging, memorable, exhausting and reflective years of my life, filled with laughter and tears. I have learnt to juggle, both physically and emotionally, two growing nurslings. My children have taught me more than I ever imagined, about myself, about breastfeeding and about life. Below I share a little of this enfolding journey, of mothering, of breastfeeding, and how the two converge.

Pregnancy Nursing remained a place of sanctuary, support and comfort to Ewan throughout his third year. He persisted, even when there was little milk left as my pregnancy developed, seeing this out to the day I went into labour. As Tessa grew inside me, so did the unwelcome feelings of being 'touched out'. These strong feelings were telling me to push Ewan away. I struggled to come to terms with the first negative feelings around feeding Ewan, which left me guilt-ridden and shocked. This was compounded with the physical challenge of nursing while pregnant, as my nipples became sore and my bump grew bigger. I persisted by placing boundaries on when Ewan could feed and for how long, not feeling ready to completely wean him yet.

I vividly recall Ewan's last feed as an only child, the day I went into labour. As we lay snuggled up in bed I silently wept, aware the next time he fed would be radically different and that our relationship would alter once the new baby came along. Ewan was oblivious to my tears as he fell asleep dreamily on the breast. A few hours later, my parents came to collect Ewan, leaving me to labour in peace with my husband, and later, my independent midwife. My hope was for a natural home-birth this time, having experienced an emergency caesarean under general anaesthetic with Ewan.

Home birth After a long and difficult labour, Tessa was born the following evening at home, safely on the living room floor. I had watched snow falling in our garden as I laboured, had focused on visions of Ewan's blonde hair and shining face as the contractions strengthened. After Ewan's traumatic birth, I‘d been so ill the midwife had to place Ewan on my breast and support me feeding him. This time around I had envisaged the first feed with my newborn baby as a blissful, self-directed experience. How wrong I was! Shaking uncontrollably with exhaustion and emotion, I could hardly hold my daughter, never mind feed her. My midwife gently placed her on my breast, where I expected her to latch on instantly and feed. However, Tessa fussed at the breast, unsure of what to do. I was surprised at how tiny and helpless she was, how I had to support her feeding and ensure she didn't slip off. I was used to an expert toddler feeding, not a newborn! Ewan met his little sister the following afternoon. On seeing mummy after two long days apart, he instantly latched onto the breast and fed for a long time. Again, I held back tears as he fed hungrily, knowing this was his way of reconnecting with me, of taking in this massive change in his life. I could hardly keep up with his need to feed. He insisted on feeding almost every time he saw his sister feeding. This was exhausting and emotionally draining for me, especially at night where we all slept together. However, I let him nurse, knowing how fundamental it was to him and our relationship. I learnt through trial and error how to feed a newborn and a toddler at the

same time; it was a strange sensation which at times I struggled with, but again I persisted. I learnt to savour those moments when my children were both nursing, knowing how fleeting this period would be and how content they were. Helpfully, Ewan always obliged whenever my breasts were engorged in those early weeks, releasing the heavy feeling so that Tessa could feed. We remained in our little nest for the first week of Tessa's life, oblivious to the outside world, which was snow covered and too cold to enter anyway!

Early days I naively assumed that because I was an experienced breastfeeder it would be easy to feed Tessa. Far from it! I was up night after night, comforting a frantic, exhausted and frustrated baby who could not feed properly. Deep inside I knew no matter how difficult this experience was, whatever it entailed, my faith in breastfeeding was unbreakable, I just needed to figure out what was wrong. Tessa kept on falling off the breast, feeding for a short time then slipping off again. One afternoon, I stumbled across an article about tongue tie in The Mother magazine. The symptoms sounded familiar and so did the photo of the tongue-tied baby. Immediately, I phoned my independent midwife, who referred Tessa to the maxillofacial

Shaking uncontrollably with exhaustion and emotion, I could hardly hold my daughter, never

mind feed her.

outpatient department at our local hospital. I was instantly relieved, assured that after a simple procedure Tessa would be tongue-tie free and able to feed normally. The following eight days felt a very long time as we waited for the appointment. Tessa's feeding remained problematic as she constantly fell off the breast, although I was not experiencing any nipple soreness, which can happen with tongue-tie babies, and Tessa was not losing weight. The following week, at five weeks old, Tessa's frenulum was snipped. The procedure was more nerve racking for me than Tessa, who cried a little but soon quietened on the breast. I had hoped this would spell the end of any feeding difficulties, however,

Tessa had to re-learn how to breastfeed. This took time and patience, but was worth it.

On the move By the third month of Tessa's life I felt we were finally in the flow. Talk about multi-tasking! I remember a woman calling me a wonder mummy as I fed Tessa in the sling, held our dog's lead and pushed Ewan in the pushchair. All in a day's work! My husband and I were ambitious about how much we could do in a day with young children; breastfeeding on the move solved that problem. However, I did miss the many occasions when I had sat with my feet up resting or reading while nursing Ewan. Those quiet moments simply didn't exist with a second child. The few times I did sit to feed her were so rare I still remember them!

Placing boundaries By this stage I felt it was time to place boundaries on when and how frequently Ewan nursed. After much soul-searching, as well as seeking support from a La Leche League friend who also tandem fed, I started to reduce the amount Ewan fed. This was a testing time emotionally for us both, as Ewan learned to let go of his reliance on nursing and I learned to mother him in new ways. Having a second child had changed the nature of my nursing relationship with Ewan. I found it hard to admit, but I no longer felt the same connection with him. Discussing this with other mums, I soon learned that these feelings of wanting to protect and feed the younger child are normal and natural, and that they aren't wrong. Feeling so touched out and irritable when he fed was starting to affect our relationship. Reducing his breastfeeding was, for us, the only way forward. Ewan slowly accepted this reduction in snuggle time, though not without tears. Gradually I managed to reduce his feeds to before bed and on waking. I also limited how long he breastfed, timing them and giving him warning when he needed to unlatch. I still feel terribly sad that I had to do this. I vividly recall the last time Ewan fell asleep on the breast, and I cried as he slipped into a peaceful sleep, stroking his hair as I remembered nostalgically all those beautiful night time feeds of the past. He looked so content, I didn't want to break the spell, didn't want him to know this was the end of all that. Hugging him to

sleep just doesn't feel quite the same, but it is another signal of his growing up and of our evolving relationship. For months Ewan's first words on waking were 'snuggles', but this one last feed of the day has recently reached its natural end. Even so, Ewan still talks a tremendous amount about 'snuggles', and will cuddle my breasts affectionately, demonstrating how very important breastfeeding has been in his life. We are both learning to let go as he moves onto the next stage in his life.

Going strong As for my daughter, her nursing journey still has a long way to go. Nursing is a fundamentally entrenched part of our everyday life, something Tessa asks for and is insistent on having, frequently in the daytime and throughout the night. Her first word was 'more', which meant 'give me more milk'. Sometimes when Ewan tries to feed she gets quite possessive, saying 'no mine'! If she cannot find me to latch on in the night, she asks for 'more' in a desperate voice, searching for that instant source of comfort and nourishment.

We are both learning to let go as Ewan moves onto the next

stage in his life.

Page 10 www.laleche.org.uk

I cannot imagine a life without nursing. I have nursed every day since becoming a mother. Nursing is as much a normal part of everyday life as eating or sleeping, so much so that I will breastfeed my toddler in public without even blinking an eye. This is a far cry from the closet nurser I once was when Ewan was a small baby. I feed so naturally, confidently and discreetly that it is unlikely most people are even aware I am nursing. I have never been directly asked to leave a public place due to nursing, although twice in cafés a waitress has suggested I nurse in the baby-changing room. On both of these occasions, I was so flabbergasted I was rendered almost speechless.

Into the future One of my friends recently asked for my advice on travelling in exotic locations with children. I have found that nursing, co-sleeping and baby-wearing are The Travel Essentials. In Bali, when Ewan was 23 months old, he nursed through illness, to feel comfort in an unfamiliar place, to ease the long flights and for nourishment when the food tasted strange. As we set off on our next travelling adventure to Nepal, I go in the confidence that breastfeeding Tessa will be just as valuable for her as it once was for her brother, so much more so than any object you can buy. My children's different nursing behaviours illustrate how very different their personalities are. Ewan was a very gentle nurser, who twiddled with my hair whilst feeding

and would feed for what felt like hours, slowly waking up after a nap or a night's sleep. If offered, he would never refuse the breast. On the other hand, Tessa will play with and pull my other nipple whilst feeding, to the point I have to cover it up! She only feeds when she wants, on her terms, and is often distracted with other things. But for both of them breastfeeding has been hugely significant in their lives. I am proud of my children, of myself and of our breastfeeding journey. I treasure this time as I know how short-lived life with little children can be. I hope that one day I can write another piece, to add to this beautifully evolving story.

Mother and baby need to be together early and often to establish a satisfying

relationship and an adequate milk supply. (One of the ten LLL philosophy statements)

All photos courtesy of Caroline Cole

Helpline 0845 120 2918 Page 11

Like most first time mums, I didn‘t really know what to expect from motherhood when I was pregnant. One thing I did know was that I really wanted to breastfeed but that was as far as my plans for the new arrival had stretched. Once the trauma of childbirth had passed, I had envisaged that the breastfeeding would be a welcome, soothing and calm antidote but sadly the reality was anything but that. In the first couple of days of breastfeeding my nipples hurt and were cracked, and let-downs of milk were still painful, but it was what followed that set off a chain of breastfeeding problems. My milk had come in, leaving my breasts so engorged, hard and red that my three

day old baby, Harvey, could not get any milk out. He was becoming fractious and impatient and things started rapidly deteriorating, until a few days later, when the midwife visited me and saw his orange crystallised urine, that the decision was made to open up my emergency packets of formula. With tears in my eyes I watched as he gulped it down from the bottle. I felt relieved that he would hopefully be okay now, but heartbroken that the one and only wish - and expectation - I had about motherhood, seemed beyond me. I had given up, and felt my world was crumbling. If I couldn‘t even feed my baby, what sort of mother would I make? This might seem dramatic

Breastfeeding beyond a year Breastfeeding beyond a year and natural weaningand natural weaning

Iris Coates

Iris and her son had a rough start to breastfeeding,

but eventually kept going until he weaned himself,

and she is enjoying a second journey

with her daughter.


now, but at the time it was hard to fight the tears back all day long, especially after having had little or no sleep for several days because of a distraught, starving baby. I had failed at having the natural home birth I had wanted and now I had let my baby down. I asked the midwife if this was it now, I‘d never be able to breastfeed, and she said she didn‘t know. For a few days we formula fed and watched his strength and colour get back to normal, ‗flushing out‘ the jaundice. He became less fractious and more settled, and started to sleep more while my breasts become softer and more pliable again. During a calm moment, I would hold him, skin to skin, on my breast and allow him to suckle. Once latched on, I would leave him on as long as he wanted to, even though he spent most of the time asleep. I didn‘t think there was much milk coming out, especially judging by the amount of formula he was drinking, but I figured at least we were bonding and anything he was getting was a bonus. After a few weeks of ‗mixed‘ feeding like this, the nursery nurse asked me if I wanted to exclusively breastfeed. Of course I did, but I had given up on that idea. She encouraged me that I could try to just keep him at the breast to help my supply to increase and see how things went. She warned me that it might mean a couple of days with him permanently attached, but that was a price I was more than happy to pay. I did it, and with cutting down bottles, I was exclusively breastfeeding by eight weeks.

The breastfeeding problems didn‘t end there, however. I had nipple trauma, Harvey had thrush (and therefore, in hindsight, I probably did too) and I was regularly becoming engorged. I was also prone to mastitis and had several courses of antibiotics, until one bout became so hard and the skin was starting to peel off. I had developed an abscess, which had to be aspirated in hospital. I wasn‘t sure whether I should carry on feeding or not: no-one seemed to know enough about breastfeeding to give me a definitive answer about what was best. But I carried on breastfeeding throughout all of it partly because I didn‘t want my breasts to become more engorged. I had mastitis several more times after that, but learnt how to drain my breasts better myself by hot shower massage and expression, and biological nurturing. One of the telephone conversations I had with a breastfeeding counsellor explained the principle of biological nurturing—placing the baby on top of you whilst being in a reclined position and allowing them to find the nipple—as it is meant to drain the breast more effectively. Biological nurturing, or laid-back breastfeeding worked so well for us that I decided that if I ever had another baby, I would do this from the start. I had loosely planned to breastfeed for a year, thinking (rather naively) this must be about the natural weaning age seeing as most of the guidance highlights this as an advisable age. introduce weaning foods gradually

I asked the midwife if this was it now, I’d never be able to breastfeed, and she said she didn’t know.


The expected course seemed to be to breastfeed exclusively for six months, and switch to cow‘s milk at a year. By the time it was Harvey‘s first birthday, though, he was still nursing several times a day on top of his three meals. Admittedly he was a big lad, but he resisted so well my attempts to reduce his breastfeeding that I reluctantly carried on and started looking into why this was and if other mums had the same ‗problem‘. I read about ‗extended breastfeeding‘ and cultural differences to do with weaning ages. I learnt that there is a range advice including the World Health Organisation‘s guidance to breastfeed up to at least two years, and that the supposed average weaning age for children worldwide is about 4.2 years. I also learnt that according to some experts, the natural weaning age, in other words the age at which a child would normally wean itself, is between two and seven years of age. Although this reassured me somewhat, it didn‘t help convince the world around me that I was doing a good thing for my child, leading me to only nurse in public very rarely and very discreetly. Even more so when just before Harvey‘s second birthday I discovered I was pregnant again. I did manage to cut back Harvey‘s breastfeeding through the pregnancy, but he still breastfed at certain times of the day. Although I was worried about whether I was doing the right thing, I didn‘t have the heart or determination to refuse him the breast altogether and kept delaying and delaying the moment at which I was

going to stop him for good. Just before Christmas Harvey‘s little sister Florence was born. As soon as she arrived, she was placed on my bare chest and I let her find the breast and suckle, on her terms, no fraught ‗inserting nipple when mouth open‘ scenarios.

We practised biological nurturing from the start and had a completely problem free breastfeeding experience with my second child. She never even lost weight and was barely jaundiced. It was the polar opposite experience from the one I had with Harvey.

Of course I‘d had several years of practice (and so had my breasts) and knew what I was doing more, but I feel that if I‘d had the right support with Harvey, things might not have got as bad as they did. If I had known it was possible to relactate at any point and start breastfeeding (something I learnt whilst training as a peer supporter), I would not have felt so distraught when resorting to the bottle. I had no idea it could be so difficult to establish breastfeeding, and sadly I feel there is not enough knowledge, funds and time available in the medical world to support mums in getting started.

Harvey carried on breastfeeding , although it became more and more sporadic and infrequent as time went on. Thankfully I never had to make that decision to push him away and it happened by itself, although I did worry about it a lot. Florence still nurses before bedtime and

…if I’d had the right support with Harvey, things might not have got as bad as they did.


occasionally when she is not well. I‘m in no rush to push her away, like I was with Harvey, because I now know it will happen of its own accord. Continuing until natural weaning is a very personal choice and certainly not for everyone but also one I will never regret. Breastfeeding is not the burden now that it was when first establishing: it

is actually a joy to watch them fall asleep in my arms every night. Until the day comes that that chapter of our lives is closed, I will relish every moment of it as they grow up so soon—something I didn‘t yet know when I first had Harvey but have learned now that Florence is nearing the end of her breastfeeding years. There is no rush, they‘ve got the rest of their lives to be grown-up.

…it is a joy to watch them fall asleep in my arms every night.

Ideally the breastfeeding relationship will continue until the baby

outgrows the need. (One of the ten LLL philosophy statements)

League Family Camp (LFC) 2015League Family Camp (LFC) 2015

LFC is open to all LLL members and their families The emphasis at camp is open-mindedness, mutual support, relaxation and fun! As well as sharing the experience of outdoor life (and the weather!) LFC offers the opportunity for campers to discuss a wide variety of issues including breastfeeding, family relationships, education and more. John’s Lee Wood in Leicestershire Sunday 2nd August – Sunday 9th August 2015 Information and booking—Rhiannon Carmichael 01633 892505 [email protected] Places are limited. LFC is a camping club for LLL members. You need to be a current member of LLLGB at the time of paying. Payment secures your booking. LFC is not legally affiliated to LLL and discussions at camps may not always reflect LLL’s views. The site is in a large woodland area with the following facilities: • Toilet and shower block within easy walking distance • Small kitchen • Cabin for craft and wet weather activities • Open fires • Sport activities on site: archery, climbing, abseiling • Plenty to do in the local area

Would you like to give something back to

La Leche League for the support you

have received?

Would you like to support other mothers to

breastfeed?

[email protected]

Then the La Leche League International accreditation process may

be the life changing experience you are looking for.

To find out more about becoming an LLL Leader, speak with your

local Leader about the prerequisites and the role.

If you don‘t have a group near you, contact Tracey

[email protected] for more information.

Making the transition from being a mother—to being a mother who

is also an LLL Leader could just be the fulfilling adventure you have

been waiting for!


Why come to Why come to LLL meetings?LLL meetings?

Sue Dowling LLL Tyne & Wear


A couple of lovely mothers commented recently about 'taking up a place' at a meeting as though they felt they maybe shouldn't be there any more. I have also heard from other mums who breastfed that 'I didn't have any problems so didn't need to go' and I wanted to reply but got distracted, as you do, so here are a few of my thoughts: La Leche League is all about mother to mother support. This is more than the Leaders supporting mums who are struggling. LLL is about shared stories from many mums, in many situations, with or without many different challenges. It is about mums who come for the first time seeing that there is no single 'right answer'. A new mum can see that, by trusting her mummy instinct and working with her own unique situation, she can make choices for her family from a place of knowledge, understanding, and by listening to her heart. A room full of new mums, with one or two Leaders can be a daunting place, for both the mums and the Leaders. Those mums' first impressions of a group of breastfeeding mums might be 'oh heck, look how EVERYONE is struggling, no-one but the Leader seems to have worked this thing out', or 'if this group is so useful, why has no-one come back?'. For a Leader, having a few experienced mums who can share their stories is vital to how the group works; it inspires and empowers new mums to know that whatever

challenge has brought them to the group, it can get better and it can be overcome. Each and every breastfeeding mum is a ray of hope, a light in the darkness of those tough nights, and a chance to believe that things will get better. Please remember that you are welcome and your story makes a difference to those new mums who sit there as you once did, among strangers who gradually become friends. To find your local group, you can use our Group Finder on www.laleche.org.uk

"Being part of a supportive community is more important than you might

think in succeeding at breastfeeding and smoothing the road to

parenthood. It really is part of the basic how-to". (The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding)

All photos courtesy of Paula Hinson


People talk about a mother‘s instinct, but I didn‘t truly understand this until I became one. Before I had my son, Jacob, I had wanted to breastfeed, but I knew my mother had problems and couldn‘t breastfeed so therefore was open to the fact it might not happen. However, luckily for me it did and it has been the most rewarding and fulfilling experience of my life; but even so it wasn‘t without problems. My pregnancy was great with no real symptoms in the early weeks apart from tiredness. However this didn‘t stop me from worrying and being anxious, possibly even more so because I didn‘t have the usual nausea. I was constantly wondering if everything was ok and I lived for each midwife appointment just so I knew the baby was fine.

Luckily, everything was fine and the pregnancy flew by. However, at 34 weeks I was involved in a car crash where someone smashed into the back of me. As you can imagine this was terrifying, and all I could think about was the baby. The crash happened outside a police station just as two officers were coming on duty for their night shift, so they handled everything for me as I was rushed to a hospital for a scan to check on the baby. After three hours of no movements, I was hysterical but the scan confirmed all was ok with the baby and it soon started moving again once I was calmer. However, the scan also confirmed my baby was breech. I wasn‘t worried too much as I thought there is still plenty of time for baby to turn, and at the next appointment my midwife agreed.

Believing in Believing in yourself and yourself and trusting your trusting your instincts instincts Tanya Walker

Tanya’s first baby’s birth didn’t go to plan, and then in the

mass of advice in the early weeks she lost the sound of her

instincts, but then she learned to hear them again.

Photo courtesy of Tanya Walker


Time passed, and my midwife thought the baby had turned and engaged, but then I went for my 38 week check with a different midwife. After a good feel around my tummy, the news came. ‗I‘m not convinced the baby has turned. I‘m sending you for a scan this afternoon,‘ were her words. ‗I‘ll ring the hospital to see if they can fit you in and call you later.‘ My mind raced into overdrive. Why did I not trust my instinct when I hadn‘t felt any different movements? I should have questioned it! However, there was nothing I could now except wait for news of the scan. That afternoon we had a full scan which confirmed the baby was still breech. I saw a consultant to look at the possibility of turning the baby manually, but they thought the chances were low because of the position of the placenta and the tightness of my muscles. It seemed my only option was an elective c-section. Devastated was an understatement. I had planned a water birth if possible and in an instant that was all taken away from me. I could not stop crying. I was booked for the section five days later which I took as the only positive at the time as at least I knew when my baby would arrive, but until then I was an emotional wreck. All sorts of thoughts were racing through my mind. Was there something wrong with my baby? Was there something wrong with me? Why had I not asked for a scan earlier? I tried lots of things myself to get the baby to turn; bouncing on a gym ball, long walks, sitting with my legs in the air, getting into a crawling position. When the c-section did happened, the procedure was straightforward and within ten minutes our baby was out and in the arms of my husband: a beautiful baby boy who we named Jacob William Edwards. Within the hour, I was in the recovery room and this was when the breastfeeding journey began.

As soon as Jacob was placed on me, he knew exactly what he was doing when it came to breastfeeding. He latched instantly and it was the most amazing moment of my life. It felt so natural. After not being too bothered either way about breastfeeding, I knew instantly this was the way forward for me. The support from the midwives while in hospital was fantastic and they were there at every step of the way. I was constantly checking his latch was ok as well as trying different positions. I couldn‘t believe how passionate I had become about breastfeeding. However, when we left the hospital the support wasn‘t followed up and this was when we started to encounter a few problems. Jacob weighed a healthy 6lb 7oz when born and I was well aware of the fact that babies lose weight during the first week. Jacob did lose weight and dropped to 5lb 15oz. Instantly I was being bombarded from the community midwives. I had followed everything they had said when it came to feeding and latching and in answering questions about whether he was having wet and dirty nappies, which he was. During our first two weeks at home we had seen four different community midwives, and when I questioned them about breastfeeding, each one of them gave different answers. Feed on demand, feed every two hours, feed every four hours as he isn‘t hungry enough and is only getting the foremilk. I felt like my head was about to explode. I was so vulnerable at this point as I was sleep deprived too, so I just felt like a failure. Two weeks later Jacob had only put on 1oz and was now weighing 6lb, so still not back up to his birth weight. The midwives told me that if he didn‘t improve his weight gain quickly, I‘d have to consider introducing formula. WHAT!!!! I couldn‘t believe my ears. I

had checked everything; his latch, his position, how long he was feeding for, how often, and in the midwives‘ words he was a textbook baby. I was also annoyed with the conflicting advice the midwives had given, with each one contradicting the other. That was it! I wasn‘t going to give up that easily. This was when my mother‘s instinct kicked into overdrive. I called La Leche League for support and I found the information invaluable. I couldn‘t hold back my emotions on the phone and the Leader I spoke to was so kind hearted and considerate. Jacob had been doing everything right and so had I, so now instead of listening to advice, I decided to do it my way. So, I just breastfed Jacob on demand during this early weeks. I would leave him to feed for as long as he wanted and not take him off after 20-40 minutes as some midwives told me. This meant some days I‘d be feeding him for over an hour at some points but I didn‘t care. I also made sure I was giving him both breasts and he would feed from both breasts too at every feed. Other information I was given is that babies unlatch when they are done feeding. Not Jacob. He never unlatched himself until he was getting to around seven months. Even if he fell asleep on the breast, he would always be flutter suckling in his sleep. In all honesty I did just leave him there too, as I was enjoying the experience so much. I felt so close to my baby. I joined a local breastfeeding support group too when Jacob was three weeks old as I was so worried about his feeding. With the pressure

of his weight gain and getting the feeding right I must admit the first two months of his life were spent worrying and being anxious. Once I joined this group and settled in I realised the greatest support of all came from other mums. Talking about our experiences together makes you realise you‘re not the only one and normalises what you are going through. Now ten months on, we‘re still breastfeeding and still going to the group. We‘re providing support for mums that are joining with newborns, and so many have said without us they would have given up. I too would have given up if it wasn‘t for believing in myself and trusting my mother‘s instinct.

Alert and active participation by the mother in childbirth is a help in getting

breastfeeding off to a good start.

(One of the ten LLL philosophy statements)

All photos courtesy of Tanya Walker

OCTOBER 15-17 2015


My life was very quiet before I had children. Work, dinner with my husband, a book, maybe a visit to the pub every now and again—that‘s how we spent our time. On the weekends we would go hiking or visit family and friends, or cook big meals. We had free time. We rarely argued, and when we did, they were adultish word-heavy discussions about ideas and principles and cleaning the bathroom. The first photos taken of my daughter show a red-faced screaming imp, lathered in vernix and blood, draped over the hand of my midwife as I looked on wonderingly. She started life with a scream. Add on two more children

and twelve more years and the volume has only increased.

Children have feelings. They have BIG feelings. When they are uncomfortable or unhappy or angry they cry huge tears with heaving sobs that shake their limbs and bodies like dusty rugs being beaten over a railing. They don‘t hold back. Like that dust, those feelings come pouring out of every available outlet: eyes, mouth, fists, feet. They throw themselves to the floor in rage, they stomp up the stairs in indignation, they cry from sheer helplessness. They hit, they grind their teeth, they tear at their hair, they choke and sometimes even make themselves sick.

A quiet life A quiet life Lisa Hassan Scott


Before having children I had little idea how the still waters of my life would be transformed into a typhoon of emotions. It‘s not just the children who have these feelings. Only after we had children did I witness my usually-horizontal husband riled. And me! Oh, woe is me. My children have pushed my angry buttons like a toddler with a tablet. I didn‘t know I could get this mad, much less this mad at people I love more than my own skin. I didn‘t know I was capable of getting back under the duvet at noon to cry frustrated tears into my pillow. I didn‘t know there would be times when I‘d want to disrupt civilised shoppers by roaring like a lion under threat when my children have asked for something for what feels like the hundredth time. For me, motherhood has been the tap screwed carefully and deeply into the tree trunk of emotion. From it spills forth anger, resentment, frustration, impotence, loneliness, fatigue, sadness and fear. Of course we all know that there is a flip side to that coin. Children have big feelings and they‘re not just the uncomfortable ones. They feel contentment, joy, peace, happiness, excitement, elation. They don‘t hold back. They perform a sort of mini- ballet, prancing around on tiptoe when

they‘re excited, throwing their heads back when gleeful, laughing big belly laughs that jiggle their delightful folds of skin. Their hair crackles with energy as they jump and bounce, their eyes are jewels when they are happy, their lashes are butterfly wings on their cheeks as they sleep contentedly. Fortunately for parents, it‘s not just the children who are treated to this potent and addictive elixir of feelings. Prior to having children, had I ever known what it is to love so ardently? Since the days of my own childhood, when had I permission to squat on my haunches and wonder at a ladybird or catch my breath at the tiny green point of a daffodil nosing itself out of the late winter earth? Now that I have children I skip and prance and bounce (I jiggle in different ways from my children, but there you are). My heart leaps for joy; I sleep deeply knowing that I am loved. The arms of my heart wrap themselves around these little people and emotions I have never experienced and have no words for raise the tiny hairs on my neck and forearms. I am complete. The screw turns and the tree releases some of its life into the tap, pouring out, to one day become a viscous syrup. Without the pain I would miss the pleasure. With feelings, whatever they are, life is sweeter.

©Lisa Hassan Scott 2015

Lisa Hassan Scott is a La Leche League Leader living in South Wales with her

husband and three children ages 12, 9 and 5. She blogs at

www.lisahassanscott.co.uk


Mothers on Mothers on ... ...breastfeeding and work

We asked mothers for their experience of combining breastfeeding and work.

Alice I was dreading going back to work and leaving my then ten month old with his daddy. We decided not to cut down on breastfeeding before and not to give formula or expressed milk in the day when I wasn't there as he drank water well. The first month was the most difficult, as I had to pump a lot for comfort but it got easier when we reduced the number of feeds he had on my days off. He's now fifteen months and has a bedtime feed and one overnight and I don't need to pump any more. I really hated pumping but I'm glad we carried on with some breastfeeding as he really does love his mummy milk.

Marie-Louise Thankfully, I have had positive experiences with returning to work and they have been fairly supportive so it's helped to continue breastfeeding. It's been thanks to reading other people's stories in my LLL facebook group that made me realise I could continue to breastfeed in the morning and at bedtime. So since I returned to work, he has been having formula in the day two days a week when I have been in the office and I pumped in the meeting room when it was free to ease any pressure and keep the routine but didn't get much out. I managed to get ‗caught‘ by the window cleaners as they abseiled outside which I just laughed off as best I could. Awkward! I also work two days from home so have been breastfeeding when I can. Now he's one he is starting on cows‘ milk in the day but I hope to continue breastfeeding for a bit longer. But we have a happy mum and baby!

Jodie I use a cool bag with ice blocks to store my expressed milk as there isn't a fridge. I go to the toilet and fill my water bottle before picking my son up so we can feed straight away and I don't have to leave him again. My son made up for lost feeds and missed time with mummy during the night at first. I just went with it and let him breastfeed all night and sleep on my chest until he didn't need to anymore. I put in a cheeky request to return to work one day a week and was offered two days. Previously they had said four days minimum. If you don't ask, you don't get!

Lizzie I was surprised at how quickly both my body and baby responded to the changed rhythm when I went back to work. I expressed a bit at first but now she just makes up for lost time on other days and my supply seems to know what's needed when. Another example of our amazing bodies!


Genevieve I'm a doctor still feeding my 20 month old. Work doesn't have to be the reason to stop. We carried on as if I'd never gone back to work. Feeding has been her way to reconnect with my when I get home in the evening. Emma I was self-employed and started working a couple of hours at a time teaching classes when my son was six months old. I paid a teenager to come with me and take him for a walk during class so that I could feed him right at the start and end. As my work built up and I was working 3-4 hours in the evening I found a fantastic nanny (who was Ofsted registered so I got some money through tax credits). And I would hand express some milk into a sippy cup. Anyway he never took it, preferred water and food while I was away and breastfed as soon as I came home, so I gave up expressing after a few weeks. In the early days I made sure my clients knew my baby might need feeding and there was one time my mum brought him to me at the break as he wouldn’t settle and all was fine. It was very early for me to start work but I felt good with the arrangements I had and that breastfeeding wouldn't be affected.

Lucy I was all set to go pack to my job, but when my son reached 9 months I realised I just couldn‘t stand the idea. I immediately started working on finding some freelance work, which I now do in the evenings after he goes to bed. It‘s exhausting, and finances are tight, but, for me, it balances the need to earn money with my intensely felt need to be with my son, and his need to be with me in his early years.

Emilia I returned to work when my son was 13 months. Breastfeeding became our way of reconnecting when I got back from work. Nothing else mattered when I came through the door except nursing my baby. Coping with reverse cycling was hard, and many times I thought I would not be able to handle another night of broken sleep. But somehow I did, and at some point nights improved and I started getting a bit more sleep. Also, knowing that my milk was protecting my baby even when I couldn't be with him helped me to keep me going. Photo courtesy of Helen Lloyd


Cat What comes to mind when I think breastfeeding and work? Hours of sitting in an airless, windowless, grey-walled room with only a breast pump, and increasing panic at the size of my to do list, for company. I should be grateful though that my employer has provided a lockable room just for me to use however! Kate Before I had a baby I have been working 50-60 hours a week and I loved my job. However, after having my little girl the idea of coming back to work full-time started getting unimaginable. I knew cutting to four days or less hours was not an option. I asked if I could work two days from home but my employers said no. After a few weeks back at work, the reality of being without her for such a long time was so painful especially as we still were breastfeeding on demand. So after a few weeks back at work I desperately started looking for something else. And I found the perfect job! It is exactly what I used to do (so did not have to sacrifice my career) but in consulting. That gave me the flexibility that I needed, working three days a week and often some of that from home and flexibility to do work in the evenings. I have the prospect of increasing my hours when ready with still an option of working from home some days. I would urge all mummies who dread coming to work but need to for financial reasons to first push hard your current employers for flexible hours and if they do not agree to look at your options. I thought that changing my hours was not possible but looking back and talking to other mothers, I can see it can be possible in most professions.

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Become a member of LLLGB!

The information and support that LLL Leaders offer are free of charge but getting the information to mothers costs money!

By becoming a member you help us to:-

operate our 24/7 National Helpline produce leaflets and information sheets prepare new Leaders start new groups

As a member you will receive this members' magazine Breastfeeding Matters

An annual membership cost only £30 for 12 months An annual membership cost only £30 for 12 months (£18 for an unwaged family)(£18 for an unwaged family)

Join online at www.laleche.org.uk/content/join-us

or ask your local LLL Leader for a membership form


Breastfeeding and going back to workBreastfeeding and going back to work

Nicky Ellis LLL Chilterns

Nicky tells us about her concerns about maintaining her and

her daughter’s breastfeeding relationship on her return to work, and about how it worked out for them.


Before my daughter was born friends had told me to expect it to take at least six weeks before breastfeeding felt natural and comfortable. I naively thought ‗how hard can it be?‘ I read The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding and practised holding a doll across my body, totally expecting to nail it as soon as she was born. We struggled, though. Poppy lost weight and was very slow to regain it; she didn‘t seem to drink deeply and I was convinced I didn‘t have enough milk to satisfy her. I spent a lot of time worrying about what I was doing wrong, especially as I couldn‘t express more than an ounce at a time and only then after much wailing and gnashing of teeth. But I was determined to make breastfeeding work and finally things started to settle down after about 10 weeks. We moved into a period where things went pretty smoothly, the months passed and with the exception of the odd period of intense nursing aversion on my part, we had a good nursing relationship. Always in the back of my mind, though, was how we were going to cope when I went back to work. At 12 months she was still feeding every couple of hours through the day and night (I‘ve found bed sharing is a brilliant way of coping with this) but I had no expressed milk to give her when I was away, so how would she cope without me? And how would I cope without her? I was loving being at home and looking after her. I definitely did not relate to the friends who assumed I would be missing ‗adult

company‘ at work. Plus I had worked for the last 19 years and it felt great being able to prioritise family! I spent a lot of energy worrying about all of this in the months before I returned to work. Finally a friend and LLL Leader gently suggested that maybe we would both just adapt to my absence. Poppy was a year old and drinking water with her meals, perhaps she would be fine on water when I was away and then make up for it when I was back home? So I accepted the fact I had to go back, tried to stop worrying and started to trust my baby and my body to adapt. I work for myself so I was able to do part time hours and shorten my work days: I was usually back home by 4 and we quickly settled into a routine of a lovely reconnecting feed as soon as I got in. My body also settled in to the new ways and my fears of either becoming engorged or drying up were unfounded. Poppy was happy to drink water in the day and breastfeed when I was at home. Poppy is now two, I‘ve been back at work for a year, and we are still going strong. ‗Booby‘ is an integral part of our morning and night ritual

Always in the back of my mind was how we were

going to cope when I went back to work.


and I love coming back home for our afternoon nursing session. Bed sharing means she is still having what she needs through the night and I mostly sleep through her fumblings in the dark to latch on! Our bodies and our babies are amazing and the biggest lesson has been to trust their innate ability to adapt and overcome change, something I definitely need to remember on my parenting journey. I am very grateful for all the breastfeeding support I‘ve received, especially from LLL members and Leaders. They have listened, encouraged me and gently suggested that things might not be quite as difficult as I imagine!

"What you need is a

community of

people who care

about you and who

won't try to coerce

you into following

their ideas. Your

community doesn't

have to speak with

the same voice. It

just has to love

you."

(The Womanly Art of

Breastfeeding)

I am very grateful for all the breastfeeding support I’ve received, especially from LLL members and

Leaders.

All photos courtesy of www.carolinemardon.com


Book ReviewBook Review

Mothers coming to LLL meetings often have questions about how to keep their breastfeeding relationship going once they return to work: they want to talk about the emotional side, and they want accurate information about the practicalities of expressing, milk storage and so on.

This new book addresses both of these subjects, particularly the latter, very thoroughly, with a clear layout and a huge amount of information. Although it‘s focussed on the US, with a general assumption of very short maternity leave compared to what we are used to in the UK, it does briefly discuss other regions and their varying policies. And our bodies and babies don‘t vary all that much between countries. The book has a couple of introductory chapters explaining some breastfeeding basics, in particular the relationship between supply and demand, and the importance of getting things well established in the early weeks. An interesting emphasis, to me, was on working out your ―magic number‖, that is the number of milk removals (whether expressing or feeding at the breast) that you need in each 24 hour period to keep your baby satisfied and your supply at the right level. The author argues that it doesn‘t matter how these are distributed, so perhaps you will pump only once or twice in your work day (or even not at all) but so long as you feed enough in the evenings and overnight, you may be fine, subject also to a maximum gap. This is much easier to explain in tables than words, and there are some excellent summary tables and charts showing rough expected volumes, times, and number of removals, along with ways to tell what sort of level of storage capacity your breasts have. It‘s not an exact science, and there‘s an acknowledgement of trial and error, and of working out your own situation, but I think the data in here, and the matter of fact approach to it, will be very empowering for mothers working so hard on balancing their work needs and their baby‘s needs. For me, the only real weak point was that the book has less on the emotional side. It does acknowledge some of the difficulties of being separated from your baby, but I thought it minimised the turmoil that many feel. Over-egging it might not be helpful, but I felt this went too far the other way, and underplayed how hard it is to separate even if you have a perfect pumping schedule. Still, I‘d definitely recommend it if you‘re planning on going back to work and want lots of detail to help you plan. Review by Helen Lloyd, LLL Bath

Working and Breastfeeding Made Simple by Nancy Mohrbacher (Praeclarus Press)


Letters... Moving heaven and earth Before my first baby was born, I fully expected that I would happily return to the teaching work which I loved, and that in most ways my life would carry on as before. My husband and I had just bought a house with a mortgage that depended on our two salaries. I had accepted the terms of my maternity leave, which required me to return to full-time teaching when my baby was a few months old. Then my baby boy was born... It came as a huge shock to discover that suddenly the future I'd envisaged wasn't what I wanted any longer. All I wanted to do was be with my baby, and I realised I would move heaven and earth to be with him as much as possible. I still had to work full-time for three months, but during that period I was able to negotiate part-time hours, giving me much more flexibility. I was lucky enough to have a friend who was willing to be my child-minder. She understood what it meant to me for her to give my son my expressed milk, and she knew how important it was for her to respond to his needs when I couldn't be there. Just thinking about it brings back the pain of leaving him, even when I knew he would be lovingly cared for. I was indeed lucky, and after a year or so we could afford for me to give up my job entirely. I'm sure many people thought I was mad to give up a well-paid job, but for me there was no looking back and I just feel fortunate that I was in a position to do that. Being a full-time mum from then on proved to be very special years which I wouldn't trade for anything.

Alison Parkes

[email protected] breastfeeding


[email protected]

I do work, I’m just not salaried Being a mother had always been something that had been part of my ‘career plan’ and I fully intended to juggle both seamlessly. What I hadn’t counted on was that when my son was born, I just didn’t want to be away from him, and my job that had previously occupied most waking moments, didn’t seem that appealing anymore. After lots of deliberation about how to return to work, one night I said to my husband that I felt far more fulfilled being our son’s mother than I had ever felt in my job. Thankfully, he asked why then were we even debating it. I know I was extremely fortunate, in that we could cope financially on one salary and that he was fully supportive of me staying at home, but it still had huge implications for us. The ‘extras’ went and we needed to plan more, our social life changed as we had less ‘fun’ money and we had very little buffer if the boiler broke or something went wrong with the car. But I guess for me the biggest change was how people viewed me. I used to love the buzz of telling people what I did and having intense conversations about people management etc. But I realised that my self-esteem wasn’t as strongly attached to my job as I had thought it was. And I gradually became immune to the awkward pause in conversation when I told people what I did. Yes, I had what I call ‘bad days in the office’ with my small children, but I honestly have never regretted it. I’ve had moments of feeling uncomfortable with my career-driven friends, and I’ve found it hard not contributing to the financial family pot. I’ve been bored with some of the relentless aspects of being a stay at home mum. I’ve found it hard when my husband has been off at (what seem to me) glamorous work locations and events and I’ve been wiping yoghurt off the walls and out of my ears. But it has also opened new doors for me—aside for having been there all the time with my babies, I have loved getting involved in running toddler groups and getting really involved with volunteering with LLLGB. It also simplified my husband’s life in that he didn’t have to worry if the children were ill. So, yes our bank balance has taken a big hit, but I feel I have worked hard in the last ten years: at bringing up our children; in ‘working’ in the community; and working as a team with my husband in raising our family, but with different roles. And yes, I am one of those mothers who says ‘Yes, I do work, I’m just not salaried’.

Polly Williams


My story began in July 2009 when the start of motherhood hit me with an almighty bang. Esmé Elizabeth was born by forceps after a long labour and, partly due to her weighing over 10lb, there were a number of complications including post partum haemorrhage and a retained placenta. I spent the first night of motherhood fighting for my life in intensive care whilst my beautiful baby daughter was in the Special Care Baby Unit. Whilst pregnant with Esmé I had intended to breastfeed and hoped to follow that plan regardless of the problematic birth. The moment I came around from the anaesthetic I was asking the staff to bring me Esmé: I needed to see her, hold her, feed her. Looking back I understand the reluctance of the nurses, as intensive care was not an ideal place for a newborn. However, the desire to be with my new baby was so overwhelming, let's just say I was rather persistent. When I was finally allowed to hold Esmé in my arms for the first time I was overjoyed. All the pain, discomfort and anxiety diminished and was replaced with love and a want to protect this dear little person I had given birth to. My breastfeeding journey had begun. After a couple of days I was moved onto the maternity ward and was in a side room where Esmé and I had time alone to bond. It was at this point I realised breastfeeding was far harder than I had ever imagined it would be and not quite what I remembered reading about whilst pregnant. There was an occasion in the small hours when Esmé had been feeding constantly and I was exhausted, and every time I put Esmé in her crib she would wake and cry so I pressed the buzzer and asked for some help. At the time I wasn't sure what help I was actually requesting and looking back now I can see all I needed was reassurance that all was normal. Instead, though, the midwife came in and insisted that as Esmé was such a big baby she obviously wasn't getting enough milk from me and needed a formula supplement. Before I had time to think, the midwife rushed off to get a bottle, scooped Esmé from my arms, and proceeded to feed her sat in the chair next to me. This was very upsetting for me.

Hayley had a tough time when her first daughter was born, and breastfeeding didn’t work out for

them. A few years later she had another daughter, and found that having the right support around her made all the difference.

Hayley Lott LLL Farnham

Doing things differentlyDoing things differently

Once home, the challenges never got any easier and when my husband insisted on giving Esmé a bottle of formula to keep her quiet and to stop the inconvenience, I knew I was on a slippery slope. I won't go into the full chapter and verse because that's another story altogether but in a nutshell I was made to feel I was being selfish wanting to breastfeed and made to feel formula was best for my baby. After only 15 days our breastfeeding experience very sadly ended. For the record Esmé didn‘t lose any weight during those 15 days so my body was certainly doing something right. I vividly recall sitting alone in the waiting room of the birth registrar‘s office a few weeks later and cried when I saw another mum breastfeeding her newborn. The guilt I felt then stayed with me for a very long time—I felt a failure. Fast forward to 2014 and now with an amazing loving partner I fall pregnant again. From the moment I saw the blue line on the positive pregnancy test I was determined to breastfeed my baby and wouldn't let anything get in the way. Emilia arrived in November 2014 by planned caesarean. To start with breastfeeding was a struggle and I did worry about whether I was providing enough milk but the difference was my supportive partner who gave me no end of encouragement and praise even in the small hours of the morning when sleep deprivation and sore nipples were causing a great deal of upset. I can honestly say that if it wasn't for my partner keeping me strong physically and mentally in those early weeks I wouldn't have managed to keep going. My health visitor Sarah was another positive influence giving me plenty of comfort when I doubted myself and needed a health professional to say everything was going well. Finally, it goes without saying that LLL has played such an important part in my success. Before I was able to attend the meetings I joined the Facebook group which was brilliant. The Leaders and other members are so incredible and willing to help. It was fascinating posting a question at 3am and receiving replies almost immediately from other mums that were also night feeding. I'm so grateful for the support network I now have and as a result I am excited about our breastfeeding journey and hoping it will continue for a long time.

LLL Leaders and other members are so incredible and willing to help

All photos courtesy of Hayley Lott


How to get help from La Leche League GB

Our Helpline might be our best known contact point. Call us on 0845 120 2918, any time at all. Your call will be taken by a La Leche League Leader – a trained breastfeeding counsellor – in her own home. This means it can sometimes take a while to get through to someone so please don‘t be disheartened. It might be a good idea to try again at a different time of day (meal times are quite often fraught, as many of us have young children!).

If you want individual help but you find it hard to get to the phone, you could try an Online Help Request. These can be accessed at www.laleche.org.uk/content/submitting-help-request (which also has helpful links to other information). If you fill in as much information as you can about your query, someone will be in touch.

You might find the answers to your questions on our websites www.laleche.org.uk or on one of the fantastic information sheets we sell in our shop www.lllgbbooks.co.uk

Or if you‘d like a longer read, the La Leche League book The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, also available from our shop, contains a huge amount of information in a very friendly format, covering all ages and stages from pregnancy through to weaning.

If what you really want is the mother-to-mother support that we‘re known for, you‘ll always find it at your local LLL group – find it at www.laleche.org.uk/find-lll-group (and watch these pages for information about new groups being started). This page can also help you to find details of any Leaders local to you who you could call for a chat.

For keen Facebook users our LLLGB because Breastfeeding Matters page shares interesting links and articles, and we‘ll repost your queries if you send them to us there, so that other mothers can comment too. You can follow us on Twitter @LLLGB – here, again, we share interesting links and snippets.

Finally, of course, you always have this magazine. Please email us on [email protected] if you have ideas for content, or write us a letter for publication, or consider sharing your story with our readers, or submit a question for our mother to mother page: the possibilities are endless!

LLLGB is proud to announce and welcome our most recent Leaders:

Michelle Patrick—LLL Coventry Janine Frosdick—LLL Suffolk


Shopping with LLLGB Books makes a difference.

Choosing to buy your breastfeeding and parenting books from our LLLGB Shop directly helps other

mothers and babies.

All our profits go to support LLLGB’s charitable work. It’s money well spent!

For our full range of information leaflets and books

on breastfeeding and parenting, visit:

lllgbbooks.co.uk

LLL Books Ltd, P O Box 29, West Bridgford, Nottingham, NG2 7NP Company No 1566925 Registered Charity No 283771

make a difference ...

Photo Lois Rowlands

HomecomingHomecoming

It‘s been a hard night‘s day and I‘ve been working. Yes, working. Trapped in a world of deadlines and meetings, and meeting deadlines, surreal after baby-broken nights. The world of work allows my mind to leave behind the baby left abruptly with a friend (who cares for him) amid the chaos of another start to another day. Grown-up talk, adult banter, sedate my hormonal and emotional state. Like an illicit lover, I force him from my thoughts; though the memory of his downy head upon her shoulder delivers the occasional shaft of pain. Now it is the rushing hour to home and him. Milk swelling in my breasts strains buttons and decorum. In the solitude of my car I allow my aching heart time to ache and step dangerously on the accelerator. Then with little grace he is flung from house to car to home. Only when the door slams behind us can we both yield to the primitive

urge of both mother and baby: to be together. His tossing head searches frantically for my milk, and for me. I press his taut little body tight against mine, and feel with relief the milk begin to flow. Blessed peace washes over us both. In my arms I watch him at my breast: his funny little frown of concentration, the way he strokes my finger with his tiny thumb. I caress the heavenly softness of his tummy, relearning the feel of him, the smell of him, and tuck his soft head beneath my chin. And when at last, replete, his eyelids close, his milky lips part, and his rosy face glows with satisfaction, his body sags into sleep. I hold him – and the moment – close to my heart. For this is when I know I have truly come home.

Alison Parkes LLL Colchester

Homecoming first appeared in Musings on Mothering, published by Mother‘s Milk Books www.mothersmilkbooks.com

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