Love Showed Up
I wanted to exclusively breastfeed so badly. I wanted a squishy baby, enriched by the supernatural nutrition from my body. The first few weeks were perfect. Normal newborn exhaustion, joy and the generalised sense of “I have no idea what I’m doing!” We nicknamed Benjamin “Big Chunk” because he was gaining so much weight. Then, I started having extreme pain in my breasts during and after feeds. Long-lasting, lightning pain. Personality altering pain. My milk was obstructed due to a cocktail of stress-induced tension and a hormonal imbalance. The less milk that flowed, the more pain there was. Simultaneously, Benjamin stopped making gains. His weight fell severely under the line, which compounded stress and meant he needed to feed more. Thus, a problematic cycle was born.
I did everything I could. For the next 3 weeks, I spent 1 of every 2 hours breastfeeding. In the 1 hour window when I wasn’t feeding, I was trying to make sure he was resting, feed my depleted body so I could produce more milk, and somehow see the rest of my family. Basic hygiene and sleep were negotiable.
All the things you’re wondering if I tried… I did. Fervently. He still wasn’t gaining enough. He was actually starting to decline.
I woke up one Saturday morning with a 101.5 degree fever and the worst body aches I’ve ever felt. Mastitis came hard and fast - a breast infection caused from my low supply. It felt like everything was breaking down, and I was the starting point. I was exhausted, and I missed Lifa. Something had to change.
Waiting for our doctor’s appointment. Look at that proud daddy!
The paediatrician agreed. Benjamin was too skinny at his 6-week appointment. He sat us down to talk through options. I have been doing all of them, including supplementing with formula. Our hungry baby guzzled as much as he could get. All the mom tears.
One afternoon, Chris came home to find me swollen-eyed with a dark chocolate bar... wrapper. The “emergency chocolate”, activated in my hour of greatest need. He asked me if I saved him some. I might have screamed, “I’m starving our baby! I NEEDED IT ALL.” (Not my finest hour.) I was sick, tired, and broken down physically, mentally and emotionally. My strong husband was worried about me. And apparently also needed some emergency chocolate.
In the meantime, Lifa got very sick. He never gets sick, and it happened to be exam week. We also got hard-hitting news about our future housing and the way we thought things would work. Our finances also started flowing outwardly very quickly with all of our medical and legal expenses.
One morning (pre-formula supplementation), I had a rough night with Benjamin and was just crawling into bed at 4:30am. At 5:00, Chris came in and knelt beside me on our bedroom floor and asked if we could pray. The heaviness was consuming, and he wept while he asked God for help. The strongest man I prostrated himself and confessed that he just could not carry on. We needed a reach. And starting that very morning…
Love showed up hard and strong. People showed up.
I didn’t cook dinner 4 nights last week because people brought meals. Coffee dates were set. People called and sent messages of encouragement. Stories were shared. Hands were laid on us. By strangers, new friends, neighbours. Chris cried some more
None of our circumstances changed, but heaven happened at our house while all that other crazy crap was still going on.
At one point I thought, “How can we start a church if it’s just so hard to live here right now? It feels like we’re just surviving.” Truth immediately reverberated through my heart…
You can’t start a church in a city unless you need a church in that city.
Life circumstances were really hard this week. That’s not something unique to our family. We all have those weeks, and sometimes they last for months or years. But Church happened to us when we thought we were supposed to be making it happen. We found hope under the sound of people’s prayers, through lactation consultations, prepared meals and surprising interactions. People reached for us. And I’ve never wanted to reach for a city so badly as I do now.
In His hour of greatest need, Jesus reached out his hands for nails to pierce them. Because of that, heaven can show up in our house during our hour of greatest need.
Our healthy, happy boy is 7 weeks old today. He’s gaining weight quickly and doing much, much better. Thank you for your prayers and support!