I have spoken to many mothers, including two midwives, who have used shields to ease nipple pain while they are breastfeeding without any apparent problems for their babies. Although they have been described (in the words of one mother) as ‘a godsend – the thing that made breastfeeding bearable for me,’ they are not recommended by the National Health Service.
What’s the problem with using nipple shields? Well, an NHS Primary Care Trust Breastfeeding Policy document cites two studies demonstrating slower milk transfer when using a shield1,2.
The trouble with this research is that it was conducted over 25 years ago, and shields have moved on in that time. A more recent study (published in 2006) test-weighed babies after feeding with or without a thin silicone shield and found that there wasn’t any difference in their milk intake3. The same article reports the results of a survey of mothers’ attitudes to using nipple shields and found evidence that they actually help to prevent early breastfeeding termination, rather than cause it. Another survey of shield use found that 86% of women utilizing them felt that they allowed them to continue breastfeeding when they might otherwise have given up4.
One study investigating the impact of a number of factors on nursing duration initially appeared to link using a nipple shield in hospital with a greater risk of discontinuing breastfeeding5. When other factors known to affect breastfeeding duration (such as the type of delivery the mother had and whether she smoked) were taken into account, however, the relationship between shield use and early weaning declined to the extent it was no longer statistically significant.
It has been suggested that using a shield from very early on could cause nipple confusion, meaning your baby wouldn’t want/be able to feed directly from the breast. An instance of this was reported in a case study more than 20 ago, which described a baby who refused to latch normally onto the breast, having been taught to attach with a rubber bottle teat covering the nipple6. This case study, which doesn’t even really demonstrate the problem – a bottle teat is quite different to a modern shield – appears to be the only recorded evidence for shield related nipple confusion. According to an article recommending shields for feeding premature babies (a situation in which they have been shown to be very useful), ‘the term “nipple/teat” confusion remains a hypothesis,’ i.e. it might be a problem, but there isn’t yet any strong evidence to support it7.
Using a nipple shield won’t necessarily be trouble-free: you have the hassle of cleaning, sterilizing and applying it before each use, not to mention remembering it when you go out. Despite these drawbacks, some mothers undoubtedly find shields very helpful. Women who choose to use them are already experiencing breastfeeding difficulties, such as nipple or latch problems, and are therefore at greater risk of stopping anyway8. When the alternative to a nipple shield is a bottle, perhaps trying one isn’t such a bad idea after all.
- Acta Obstet Gynecol Scand. 1987;66(1):47-51.
- Early Hum Dev. 1980 Dec;4(4):357-64.
- J Obstet Gynecol Neonatal Nurs. 2006 Mar-Apr;35(2):265-72.
- J Hum Lact. 1996 Dec;12(4):291-7.
- Midwifery. 2008 Mar;24(1):55-61.
- J Hum Lact. 1986 ;2(1):28-30.
- Infant. 2005 ;1(4):111-115.
- J Hum Lact. 2004 Aug;20(3):327-34.
My nipple fissures weren’t showing any signs of improving, so after a day of deliberation, I phoned the National Childbirth Trust. I was starting to realise that the fact that there were helplines (and whole charities, in the case of La Leche League) dedicated to solving breastfeeding problems should probably have served as a warning that it might not be that easy. The counsellor who answered the phone was helpful, if a little abrupt. She asked me which direction my nipples pointed (!) and when I said it was slightly outwards, rather than directly forwards, she said that they were probably getting bent backwards in C’s mouth when I was holding her in the cradle feeding position. She suggested using a different position to feed her (such as the rugby/football hold, where C’s mouth would approach the nipple from the opposite direction) while I waited for them to heal. This seemed sensible advice, and after a few goes, C and I managed to perfect some new feeding positions. Although I can’t say it was definitely less painful, the knowledge that C’s mouth probably wasn’t putting pressure on my nipples in the same way seemed to help at least psychologically.
Given the high incidence of nipple pain (it seems most women experience it when they start breastfeeding
Having been told that my initial breastfeeding difficulties – cracked, bleeding, excruciatingly painful nipples – were quite normal (despite what the official literature said), I was looking forward to the three week deadline after which everything would be functioning as it should. I was, however, slightly perturbed by the fact that as he deadline approached, no improvement was evident. In fact, my nipples were getting much, much worse. My husband expressed genuine concern that C was going to chew one of them off! By this stage, the bleeding had stopped, but it had been replaced by deep, ulcerated gashes on the outside edge of each nipple. I dreaded feeding, and as C wanted to do so 10-12 times a day, I spent all 24 hours either in pain, or anticipating its imminent start.
The first couple of days at home were pretty breezy. Before I left hospital I was assured by two midwives that C was latching on properly – cheeks puffed out, chin pumping, ears wiggling – so I was confident we had the technique sorted. Family visited and I assured them everything was going well, demonstrating our successful feeding on several occasions. By the time I got to day four, however, things weren’t quite so easy. Accompanying the hormone-induced plunge into despair inadequately named ‘the baby blues’ (that coincides with the start of proper milk production) was a serious deterioration of my nipples.