The decision to breastfeed my child was made with a conviction rooted deeper than the depths of the ocean floor, and the special bond it has given my child and I runs just as deep, but it hasn’t always been easy.

Even before Nate was born, I was concerned about how successful I would be at breastfeeding. I mean, I had never even seen anyone breastfeeding in real life, ever, and it all seemed so foreign to me. Considering that breastfeeding is supposed to be a beautiful and natural thing, it certainly felt very overwhelming and complicated to me.

Maybe that had something to do with the fact that I spent the entire nine months of my mountainous matronliness deeply focused on solving the perplexing mystery of the Diaper Genie and worrying about how my baby was doing inside the secret chamber of his gestating capsule. I didn’t give much thought to how I’d turn my mammaries into lactating milk jugs. I just sort of thought Nate would pop out and I’d stick him on my boob and then the magical powers of the Universe and Mother Nature would take over and handle the rest.

Maybe I would have had a fairy tale start at breastfeeding, but my baby ended up spending three days in the NICU after he was born via a C-section, and I was not allowed to hold him, let alone breastfeed him. It was then that I realized I would need to line up an army of support if I was going to succeed at breastfeeding.

As luck would have it, my baby was born a few days before Christmas and all of the lactation consultants were on holiday. One thing I did know about breastfeeding was that if I couldn’t be around my baby after he was born, I would need to start pumping immediately to encourage milk to come in.

So a couple of hours after Nate was born I grudgingly sat myself up in bed and tried to pretend like it didn’t bother me that my spleen and stomach were being held inside by a couple of staples, and hooked my nipples up to an electric pump that the hospital provided.

Thank goodness for the loving support of my husband: he was able to keep me laughing about how my nipples could have doubled as a coat rack from all the pumping I was doing because for the love of remembering what sleep felt like, I was tired, and weary and felt completely spent and drained.

But when the shadowy web of sleep grew thicker and heavier every time the alarm would go off to wake me up to pump, I would remember that my son was persevering like a champ through laboured breathing and tubes and monitors and the scary home that is an incubator in a level 3 NICU, and if he could do all of that only a few hours into his life outside my womb, surely I could survive getting my breasts to lactate.

In between session of pumping like a determined demon, I would go to visit Nate in the NICU. In tow I carried with me several invisible buckets overflowing with motherly love to wash over him along with every single last drop of the golden nectar of my colostrum that I was able to collect.

Those first drops of colostrum that my body produced made me feel so overwhelmingly proud. My very own mammaries rivalled the brilliance of the world’s greatest scientists in their ability to provide my child with the most perfect food, and I positively reveled in how much pleasure it brought me to gently transfer each and every drop of that golden goodness into Nate’s feeding tube.

Once I was finally able to physically hold my son, with the caring guidance of an NICU nurse and the help of a lactation aid, Nate and I were finally able to begin learning the beautiful art of breastfeeding together. In no time at all, he was latching and drinking like a champ.

I left the hospital feeling confident and proud of how breastfeeding was going. Nate latched well, the diaper output count was perfect and although he had lost 10% of his body weight after he was born, he was quickly starting to plump back up one ounce at a time.

Shortly after we returned home from the hospital we hit a breastfeeding speed bump when I discovered that Nate and I had developed a bout of thrush. When I went to see my family doctor, I was shocked to learn how little she knew of breastfeeding and how wrong her solution to the thrush issue was – even from my limited knowledge of what I had read online about it.

That was when I turned to the internet for help and discovered the world-class breastfeeding expert Dr. Jack Newman. I thought it might be a long shot to email him for help given his renown, but within 5 minutes, I had a response full of valuable advice and a better course of action for treating thrush that included using Gentian Violet and a prescription for his All Purpose Nipple Ointment.

All strangeness aside that my boobs were purple from the Gentian Violet, I cannot stress enough what a fabulous resource Dr. Newman was to me during that painful crisis that I can only liken to my nipples feeling like they were being used for dart practice.

Overall, breastfeeding continued along swimmingly swell, but if I did hit a hiccup along the way I would contact the Durham Region Health Connection Line (800-841-2729). The nurses on staff are absolutely fabulous and a wonderful breastfeeding resource. Not only do they provide confidential telephone advice, but they will even arrange for one to one breastfeeding support if you need it. Because lets face it: although I tried the group support thing, during those early days of frequent breastfeeding when your baby has little neck control, it is darn near impossible to be discreet. And flashing your breasts in a group setting isn’t for everyone.

Shortly after Nate turned six months old, breastfeeding suddenly came to a screeching halt. My son suddenly refused to nurse. He would wail, scream and kick his legs and contort his body as far away from me as possible. He had never done anything like that before and had always been quite a vigorous and content nurser, so it’s hard to put into words what it felt like to have my child snub me like that. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I did know for certain that I was absolutely not ready to be done breastfeeding.

I spent the next few days shifting between islands of helplessness and inadequacy trying to keep my sinking confidence afloat. Despite everything I tried, my son continued to turn away from me. Finally, frustrated and spent and a crumbling mess of tears, I contacted Dr. Newman again.

As it turns out; my milk supply has been diminishing. Perhaps it was partially due to the low dose birth progesterone birth control pills I recently started, or perhaps it was as simple as Nate going on a nursing strike, but I am now on Domperidone to help return my supply to where it was.

I have seen almost immediate changes in Nate’s nursing habits. He is now nursing again with the old familiar gusto that I am used to.

I am so grateful for the help and readily available support of Dr.Newman. His email guidance, book and online resources have been extremely important in helping me learn and continue to breastfeed successfully, and I cannot stress how thankful I am for that support. Because for me, breastfeeding is not only about nourishing my son’s tiny little body, it was also about his tiny little body nourishing the giant soft spot deep inside the chambers of my motherly heart that yearn to feel him close.

How about you? Did you try or are you currently breastfeeding? What obstacles have you had to deal with along the way and did you receive the kind of support that that you needed?

Karla Cadeau is a freelance writer, blogger (www.untanglingknots.com) and wife to the most charming husband a woman could ever want. She is also a seminal arbitrator to a pooch that is the master of finding all things that taste like sock. She’s mother to Nathan, who is affectionately called Rockstar Baby because he was born with the sassiest faux-hawk baby mullet she has ever seen in the whole wide world, or at least Ajax, which she calls home.