Eleven months of sleepless nights . . . that’s what it took for me to realize the dark pit I was really in. Nobody really understands until they have been through it, and for that, I will never fault them.
Thousands of tears shed, and hundreds of hurtful words shouted at the ones I love the most. Hour upon hour of research because everyone else had long since given up on us, my mind, body, and soul were consumed . . . but, I pushed through because somebody had to and my baby was too little.
Too little . . . failure to thrive. I felt I had failed my child by starving her and that my milk was not good enough or maybe they were right and I wasn’t feeding her often enough. Because nursing for 30 minutes, bottle feeding for 45 and pumping for 30, every 3 hours is not enough.
It shook me and broke me and I swore I was crazy as I took her from one healthcare provider to the next pleading for answers . . . to which they had none. My intuition told me that something was wrong, very wrong, but, nobody would listen. “Just add more calories,” was the answer over and over again . . . but, nobody took the time to consider why she needed so many.
Everyone says it is a “simple clip,” for tongue ties, but, there is nothing simple about it . . . at least not for us. Many refuse to revise, and others do so incorrectly. Nothing is worse than realizing the doctor you trusted performed a procedure incorrectly . . . it feels even worse when deep down inside you knew you should have gone to someone more experienced.
It was not easy when we reduced our grocery budget and postponed the rent because we had to travel through several states and pay out of pocket to get to a healthcare provider who was experienced enough to help our child . . . at least I hoped.
Most parents think they lack sleep . . . but, very few have spent the better part of every night for 11 months in a rocking chair with a screaming baby, listening to the wicked air trapped inside of her little body.
People do not realize how much it hurts a parent who gave everything she had to breastfeed to hear another parent say, “I tried so hard and I just couldn’t.” I just cannot be empathetic to that after pumping around the clock for months, latching with cracked and bleeding nipples, screaming in a pillow while someone else held the baby to my breasts for fear my pain would cause me to hurt her, attempting over and over to latch my baby, fighting with supplemental nursers and eating galactogogs like candy. I am pretty sure everyone can breastfeed if they try hard enough, though I certainly understand those who choose not to . . . especially now.
11 months, a bruised hand from punching a wall in frustration . . . and that night my baby slept . . . and I slept. It was about 5 weeks after her 4th frenectomy (it certainly was not a “simple clip” for us). Suddenly my world began to change . . . to brighten. Within a few months I was finally able to enjoy and care for my family instead of spending every waking moment simply trying to survive.
Naomi is 17 months, she has come so far . . . and has some left to go. We have both recently let out a cry . . . a deep and heartfelt release of all of tension from her first year of life. It was the most stressful of mine thus far; I can only imagine what it must have been like to her as her very introduction to the world.
Now people’s eyes glaze over as soon as I mention “tongue tie,” because until one has survived it and lived to tell the story, they just have no idea the impact it really has. A tiny little defect of the mouth . . . that can easily turn life upside down. But, we survived and lived, and for that reason I tell me story and I know the ones that listen and understand are the only ones who need to hear it.
7 weeks old, crossing her birth weight the day of her first frenectomy (which was incomplete), two months later she was labeled “failure to thrive” dropping from approximately the 75% to the 5% and then below the charts. If only it were a “simple clip” that anyone could do and do correctly.
Taken a few days ago . . . 17 months. She’s still tiny, but, so healthy and loves her mommy milk. Even though we still are working on some suck training among other things, it is amazing that her reflux and aerophagia are almost non existent and she is such a happy little toddler! This is the reason I seem so obsessed . . . I want everyone to survive . . . and live to tell the story. The more of us who do, the greater chance people will take notice and hopefully more healthcare providers will become aware and babies will be treated sooner and correctly.