This is what I thought was the last bottle of my expressed breastmilk that I would ever feed to Master X. I fed him this bottle of my breastmilk slowly, presently, enjoying the moment. Proud to be feeding him my milk.
Because I thought that I had accepted that I was going to stop breastfeeding. That by feeding him, and following the feeds with full formula bottles, that my supply would dwindle, and that we would be granted a gentle wean. A glorious, beautiful end to a special part of our early relationship.
A side effect of the Risperidone is increased milk production. So although I had stopped expressing on 28th December (wow, it feels so much longer ago), my production did not slow.
I started leaking. Something that I did not experience, even when my milk first came in some five months ago. I treated the leaking with a carefree attitude, asking people to bring me tissues, a bottle, so that I can collect my milk. Proud that my milk was so rich, so abundant.
I forgot what the doctor told me. Or I did not want to remember.
But I remember now.
Start with three days on Risperidone. If you feel it is working, then continue and increase the dosage if required.
But, you must stop breastfeeding.
Perhaps this is the reason that I could not recall. My brain was all like ‘nah, you don’t need that piece of information. You need to keep feeding. To stop feeding is to stop being Master X.’s mum’. Thanks Brain.
I would like to extend my sincere thank you to
- Curious and Curiouser who suggested dialling Health Direct;
- blogger and tweeter, Mrs.C who helped me get urgent word out on Twitter for much needed and timely support on this occasion;
- Eve Cavanan, a blogger and tweeter who suggested for me to dial the Australian Breastfeeding Association (ABA); the counsellor at the ABA; and,
- thank you for all the comments, emails, texts, calls of support. I am not up to answering everyone, but am truly appreciative of your love, and offers for support and hope that you understand why I cannot answer everyone is as much detail as I would like.
Most of all I thank my loving, kind, soulful mother, who sat with me and talked while I wept, again, for the cruelty of this situation; for the forced end to something that I have held in my being for so long, as the central aspect to my relationship with my son; the cornerstone of my relationship with myself, as a mother.
And as I now pump each feed whilst my mum gives him a bottle (because when I feed him a bottle I involuntarily let down) to throw, drain, pour my precious, once life-giving milk down the sink, I try to remind myself of how strong my son and I can be, and how our family will be love again, once I can become well.
However first, the grieving begins.
If you or someone you know is experiencing thoughts of suicide please contact Lifeline immediately 13 11 14