Nursing is something I have never loved. I wish that it was. It always felt uncomfortable to me. Stressful really. How much is he getting? Is it enough? Is it the right mix of fore-milk and hind-milk. Am I eating the right things? Are we on time? Does that feeding fit into our hectic pace to get to that event? When is my body, mine, and when is it really his?

I do wish nursing was the blissful, relaxing moment it might have been. Maybe I just wasn’t keen enough to “be in the moment” to enjoy it all.

There are so many experiences that have led me to this place of mixed fillings. But this third try was the eye-opener. Some of the puzzle pieces finally fit together to reveal why nursing is so physically difficult for me.

I wanted to share my story here in the hopes that another mother out there struggling with the same symptoms I had could find some solace, direction, a few answers, and someone who understands. Nursing can be hard. It can be work. And it can be rewarding in the end.

For me, this third time, my milk came in on the third day. We had gotten plenty of help from the lactation consultants in the hospital and I felt I was ready to handle engorgement and milk supply. Little Dylan was nursing beautifully. He did it all: waking up to nurse every two hours, staying awake for 30-40 minute feeds, suckling powerfully, and gaining weight well. But I began to get more and more swollen. And it all was extremely painful.

Within 48 hours, I was so swollen, I couldn’t close my hands, walking was painful, and my breasts were as hard as softballs after our feeding session. The pediatrician instructed us to return to the hospital for phototherapy to manage Little Dylan’s jaundice. Even though getting back to the hospital seemed like a set-back, it turned out to be truly a blessing in disguise.

I was in tears because of the painful swelling. We would nurse, and I would get more swollen. As the hours passed between feedings I’d feel a bit better. My breasts burned, let-down felt like daggers in my chest, and heat and ice compresses did nothing to quell my discomfort. My skin felt like there were spiders crawling on it. My heart felt like it was racing and hot flashes made me sweat. My mind felt sleepy, my throat felt thirsty and all of a sudden, I’d feel ice cold covered in sweat.

My doctor, two different lactation specialists, and many nurses told me they had never heard of anyone experiencing such symptoms while nursing. They advised pumping to alleviate the engorgement, hot and cold compresses to ease the swelling, hot showers to help let-down, and more frequent feedings to empty the milk in my breasts. No one could tell me why nursing made me swollen afterward.

With puffy eyes from tears of pain and frustration, and a body hurting, we checked into the pediatric ward at the hospital. A nurse asked me if I was okay and she turned out to be the angel sent for me.

I told her of my symptoms, about our difficulty breastfeeding, and that no one could tell me how to help myself. She looked at me and said, “I think you have “hyper-let-down. I’ll help you nurse tonight.” I was so surprised. And I felt a flow of relief amidst this supreme gift of grace from God.

When the baby latches on and begins to suck, the nipple simulation sends messages to the brain’s pituitary gland to create oxytocin. Oxytocin pulses to the milk glands in the breasts and lets-down the milk so that it can gently flow out through the nipple. In women with hyper-let-down the message to breast is to let the flood gates open and the deluge of milk in the breast is released with force. The milk can shoot out of the nipple, the flow can cause the baby to choke, gag, and unlatch, and hyper-let-down can feel painful to mom.

Our nurse angel told me to lay down on my back and informed me that I’d be feeding that way for a while. With my baby above my chest, or if we are laying side, beside me, gravity isn’t pulling the milk down out of my breast. The flow is lessened, my pain is lessened, and my baby can feed more comfortably. After that feeding laying down I could open and close my hands easily, my feet were not swollen, and my breast felt relief instead of more engorged. I cannot explain swelling less. Nursing laying  down just worked for us.

Through that night of feedings we also surmised I might also be hyper-sensitive to the prolactin hormones in my body. Many times, hyper-let down is coupled with milk over production. I seem to have very sensitive breasts that take every bump in the road, cool draft, and touch of cold water to mean “make more milk.” I know it sounds weird. I don’t understand all the ways the body works but I these are my symptoms. The best it was explained to me was that each time after the baby would empty a breast my body would work over time to make more milk. Hot flashes, cold sweats, racing heart beats, all may have been because of overactive hormones saying, “make more milk!”

Additionally, I fell upon this tid bit during a Google search. Koreans eat a traditional seaweed soup called miyeok guk after giving birth. In fact, this soup is made for the mom on the birthdays of her children for years to come. It is sweet, salty, and soft on the tummy, and I was eating two large bowls of it a day. But seaweeds can be milk production enhancers. I already had a problem with over production. After halting my seaweed soup  consumption, some of my oversupply subsided and my breasts became lighter, softer, and less painful.

The real solution for hyper-let-down and overproduction is time, patience and to have faith. In time hormones will transition to post-partum levels, residual bodily swelling will subside, and the baby will feed more regularly and the milk supply will match the need. I am not a person of much patience. But this time I vow  to remember daily, or perhaps hourly, that this time nursing Little Dylan is truly precious. I hope I can trust in God, and my baby’s feeding habits, enough to let go a bit, relax, gaze at my little one and enjoy his amazing new presence. In the meantime, we are nursing laying down, reclined, and at home, patiently waiting for the day the rest of the nursing puzzle fits together and we can rejoin regular life together as a happily nursing couple.

I write this today to share with others a sense of hope when nursing seems impossible. Have faith in the Lord. Have faith in your resolve to be the best mother you can be. Be proactive, ask for answers, and search with your heart. I am forever grateful to that nurse who helped me. You too may be surprised who shows up in your hour of need.

Thank you all for your wonderful comments and well wishes. I so appreciate each one of them! More to come about our family fun this summer.