Oliver came in to the world 6 weeks earlier than planned. During my pregnancy I had assumed that I would be able to breastfeed. Of course I would, nothing more natural I thought. Little did I know that babies born before a certain gestation don’t have the ability to suck, not ideal for breastfeeding. Between that and a severe tongue tie the odds were pretty stacked against us.
So, for the first 2 weeks of Oliver’s life he was fed through a tube, albeit with my own milk.
At this point I would like to say that any woman that has fed their babies with exclusively breast milk, I salute you. I managed it for 6 weeks when we got home from hospital. Every time I managed to get a good stock pile Oliver’s appetite would increase. I can safely say I have never been so exhausted in my whole life. I remember my husband coming in to the living room at 3am one morning. I was bottle feeding Oliver in one hand while being hooked up to my breast pump. He took one look at me, picked up Oliver and sent me straight to bed. I have looked pretty rough in my day, so this must have been a whole new level.
During the two weeks of tube feeding I tried and tried and tried to breast feed. but it just wasn‘t to be. On Christmas eve, with a heavy heart, I decided to give him a bottle. The nurse told me not to expect too much, he would maybe take around 10ml, 50ml and an empty bottle later Oliver had clearly made his mark as a lover of food. 2 days later his feeding tube was removed and we never looked back.