Today I'm honored to share Holley's account of her son Kian's heart surgery, and how breastfeeding brought her closer to him during an extremely stressful time.
If you saw our son Kian you'd never know he has a heart defect. He looks like any well-fed, happy baby. However, when he was barely twelve weeks old, he was scheduled for a valvuloplasty to address the stenosis which had developed in his heart.
On the morning of Kian's procedure, I climbed out of bed at 2:00 am, unable to sleep. I retrieved Kian a few minutes later to feed him. We needed to finish by 3:30 am, and unlike the quick snack style of his older sister, breastfeeding Kian is like a pleasant marathon. As if on cue, Kian was done by 3:20 and asleep in my arms.
Once at the hospital, Kian woke up, ravenous and confused as to why Mommy was not feeding him. By the time we carried him to the catheterization lab, he was screaming. A nurse dryly commented, "There's nothing wrong with his lungs." My husband and I were ushered out of the lab as Kian, hysterical, was given a gas mask.
We found the waiting area, our minds focused on the lab a few doors away. An employee approached and asked if we needed anything. I said, "No." My husband said, "Yes, you do," and nodded at the large black bag at my side. I stammered, "Our baby is breastfed and I really need to pump because it's been hours since I fed him." She smiled and placed me in an exam room. I assembled the tubes, horns, and bags and started pumping. That simple act was the first thing in several hours that gave me the feeling of doing something for my son. Completely powerless and overwhelmed by the lab with its banks of machines, I sat quietly in an empty room and felt connected to my son. I felt useful again.
Kian came through the procedure beautifully. It was hours before I was allowed to nurse him again, so I pumped a few more times in his hospital room, with Kian only a few feet away. First, he had to drink Pedialyte. If he could tolerate that, we could breastfeed. Kian made a face when he tasted the Pedialyte. I joked that we was only used to "the good stuff." The doctor asked, "What's the 'good stuff?'" When I explained that Kian is exclusively breastfed, she cheered.
I fed him for the first time around 5:00 pm. Wires were attached to sensors all over his torso, and a pulse ox monitor was attached to his big toe, but he was in my arms feeding enthusiastically again. It was awkward, but I was thrilled to be snuggling and feeding him for the first time since the early morning.
Around 8:30 pm, Kian finally rewarded us with an enormous smile after breastfeeding. My husband and I could have jumped to the stars with joy.
After that, Kian wanted to feed and cuddle frequently. I was awake every hour that night but I felt wonderful. For our daughter, I read extensively about breastfeeding. Nothing prepared me for feeding while negotiating the various wires attached to Kian. While I fed him, I watched his heart rate and pulse ox levels on a monitor. At one point I even reattached the pulse ox monitor when it fell off. I sang songs and told stories while breastfeeding.
I've always enjoyed breastfeeding not only for the benefits to my children, but because I appreciated its coziness. For the twenty nine hours we were in the hospital, breastfeeding and pumping helped ground me when I was most frightened and connected me to my child in a way I never expected.
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