One Day at a Time: My 16-Month Journey of Exclusive Pumping

home insemination Kit

Updated: November 12, 2020

Originally Published: October 4, 2016

I was a pregnant woman on a mission, diving deep into research. Books, documentaries—you name it, I consumed it all in an effort to prepare for the roller coaster of parenthood. Lists were made. Classes were taken. I envisioned a natural childbirth followed by a blissful experience of skin-to-skin contact and immediate breastfeeding. What I didn’t anticipate was the possibility that breastfeeding might not go as planned.

My mom had breezed through three natural births and over a decade of breastfeeding without a hitch. No hiccups, no issues, and certainly no electric breast pumps—just chubby babies and a sea of bonding moments. So, you can imagine my shock when my son stubbornly refused to latch for nearly four hours after his grand entrance into the world. My midwife remained unfazed, explaining that he had needed meconium suctioned right away, and assured me that he would start feeding soon enough.

Spoiler alert: He didn’t.

He would latch intermittently but would quickly pull back, screaming in frustration. I was exhausted, bewildered, and unsure of what to do next. Somehow, his blood sugar stayed up, and he didn’t lose too much weight in the hospital (we’re talking about a baby over 10 pounds at birth), so they sent us home with little guidance. Thus began a two-week marathon of sleepless nights, endless frustration, and growing concern.

Before long, my hefty baby had shed nearly two pounds, despite being offered the breast every two hours, round the clock. My husband and I were dumbfounded. After consulting three lactation specialists, we discovered that while my little guy was giving it his all, he simply couldn’t transfer milk effectively. No ties to fix, no tricks—his mouth and tongue were just not designed for breastfeeding. I felt crushed and utterly drained.

Determined to avoid nipple confusion, we embarked on a wild adventure of pumping, feeding him through a tube while he was close to my nipple (a two-person job that required at least four hands and half an hour), supplementing with formula, and then repeating the entire process every two hours, day and night. I was committed to breastfeeding, and I was nearly at my wits’ end.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I popped a bottle of freshly pumped milk into my baby’s mouth. The transformation was instant. He guzzled it down and fell asleep, a picture of contentment. He started regaining weight, and suddenly I realized I had an alternative: exclusively pumping. Surprisingly, this new routine was far less chaotic than our previous approach.

I settled into a rhythm, pumping six times every 24 hours, even squeezing in a session in the middle of the night (which finally gave me a chance to catch up on some reading). I mastered the art of sanitizing bottles in mere minutes, even in the dark at 4 a.m. I discovered the wonders of a hands-free pumping bra, pumping while driving, lactation cookies, and letting my partner handle nighttime feeds. Before long, I could pump, feed my baby, enjoy breakfast, and sip my coffee all at once. It was some of the hardest work I’ve ever done, but also the most fulfilling.

Though it took a bit to rebuild my supply, I eventually found myself pumping 45 ounces a day. My child soon soared to the 99th percentile for height and weight. By 12 weeks postpartum, I was finally able to drop my middle-of-the-night pumping session, and I enjoyed several consecutive hours of sleep. My husband and I could indulge in date nights, and he generously gave me every weekend “off” by handling night feeds and allowing me to sleep in. Going back to work was a breeze with a pumping routine already established. It was remarkable how something that seemed impossible at first became manageable.

I set small milestones for myself: Just make it to three months. Then six. Then nine. And now, here I am, nearly 16 months into this journey, and I’m beginning to wean. I can hardly believe how far I’ve come. My son is thriving and only had one 24-hour fever in his entire life so far, and he remains as chubby as ever. Plus, my partner has had the incredible opportunity to bond with our baby just as I have through feeding him. They still share bedtime together five nights a week and enjoy special weekend mornings filled with one-on-one time.

These past 16 months have been a wild ride, but they’ve also been some of the happiest days of my life. I’ve learned that breastfeeding doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing endeavor. Every drop of milk is a gift to my child, and each drop would have been just as precious whether we had breastfed for five days or 25 months. Pumping is breastfeeding, and the moms who exclusively pump are some of the most resilient individuals I’ve ever encountered.

To all the pumping moms out there, I see you. I see you fumbling with pump parts in the wee hours, washing yet another load of bottles, and applying coconut oil to your sore nipples for the umpteenth time. I see you giving your pump the side-eye, contemplating a dramatic exit involving a hammer, only to sigh and hook up for yet another session.

Take it one day at a time. You’ve got this. Whether you pump for a week or two years, know that you’ve poured your heart and soul into providing the best for your baby, and that’s nothing short of amazing. For more on this topic, check out this blog. And if you’re seeking additional resources on pregnancy and home insemination, this guide is an excellent resource.

In summary, my exclusive pumping journey has been a challenging yet rewarding experience that taught me the value of patience and adaptability. Each goal I set became a stepping stone to success, and now, as I prepare to wean, I can reflect on a journey filled with love and growth.