She should have her own reality show

When Duckling and Pin were five days old, we went back to the hospital for an appointment with a lactation consultant. Breastfeeding is really hard, and breastfeeding twins is even harder, especially when you have no idea what you are doing. I had been home for two days, and was breastfeeding the boys on demand.

Duckling had been diagnosed with jaundice a couple of days after birth, but was deemed well enough to go home. I had been advised to supplement with formula to help with the jaundice, but was determined to breastfeed as much as possible. Pin had raised bilirubin levels, but not as high as Duckling, and was never officially diagnosed with jaundice.

The night before the appointment with the lactation consultant, Duckling refused a feed, and in fact did not really wake up properly. I put him in my nightgown for some kangaroo care, and he took the next feed so I wasn't too worried.

When we got to the appointment, I described Duckling's behaviour and they were immediately concerned. They checked his diaper and saw dark orange urine, and did a test to check his bilirubin, which was even more elevated. He hadn't gained any weight since discharge, and all in all looked like a sick baby. I was shocked. I had no idea he was not doing well, and in fact thought I was doing so well by breastfeeding him. I didn't know that he was sucking but not really eating, and didn't know how to tell the difference.

Enter the nurse practitioner from the NICU. She crackled with energy, took a history, and tried immediately to create a rapport with me by telling me that she too had fertility issues. She then told me that he was dehydrated because I wasn't feeding him properly. She made me feel like a terrible mother, that I had made him sick by not taking appropriate care of him, which sent me over the edge into hysteria. She called for blood tests, she called for bili-lights, she did everything except yell 'stat' at the nurses. She got things accomplished, but with the end result of further overwhelming an already overwhelmed, post-surgery, new mom of twins. I didn't stop crying for hours. Duckling was admitted for jaundice, which meant Pin and I stayed too. We had a private room and the isolette for Duckling, and a cot for Pin. S had to go home and get my things, and there we were, back in the hospital two days after leaving.

I guess I had been instructed on what to look for to let me know if the babies were not doing well, but I have no recollection of this. I didn't know to check, or even how to check, that they were swallowing and not just sucking, and I didn't know that they weren't latched on properly. I knew to check for wet diapers, but didn't know the difference between 'kind of wet' and 'soaked'. I truly thought I was doing a fabulous job. The whole experience left me doubting my abilities to feed my boys myself, and I have never had the confidence to stop supplementing with formula, with the end result that I was never able to produce enough milk for both babies. I'm still breastfeeding them both, but I follow it immediately with bottles of formula. I have so much guilt about this, I can't even describe it. I resent using formula, and I detest all the washing, sterilizing and filling of bottles. I don't like anybody else (except S) to give bottles to the boys, because I still believe it is my job to feed them.

I know that nurse practitioner was doing a great job at ensuring my baby got the care he needed, but I wish I could tell her just how terrible she made me feel.