One of the common myths perpetuated about breastfeeding is that it causes your baby (and you) to sleep less soundly at night. Formula is said to be heavier and harder to digest, knocking your baby out for longer, whilst ‘weaker’ breast milk just isn’t as satisfying. A friend of mine was criticized for not using formula (by her mother, of all people) for this very reason. I’ve met lots of breastfeeding mothers who are doing fine sleep-wise, and bottle feeding ones who are knackered, and have always thought this was nonsense, so I was happy to hear recently about some research that confirms what I always expected1.
The study examined the sleeping patterns of 133 parents of three month old babies over a 48 hour period. The parents were asked to report how much sleep they got, while the actual amount was measured using a special device called a wrist actiograph. Mothers who breastfed exclusively reported getting a greater amount of sleep than those who supplemented with formula at night, and the actiograph confirmed that they did indeed get on average an extra 40-45 minutes. As it can take a while to prepare formula, this isn’t entirely surprising – the extra time might be due to the fact of having to make up the bottle. Here’s the really interesting thing, though: mothers whose partners shared the night feeds (in theory allowing them to sleep longer) STILL slept less than mothers exclusively breastfeeding. It seems that when the baby wakes, the mother does too (thanks, biology!) and when she doesn’t need to feed the baby, she instead lies there worrying about whether her partner is doing it properly… So, although the results confirm how hard it is for mothers to sleep easily (even if they have a partner willing to help out), they are very encouraging for breastfeeders – an extra 40 minutes can make a BIG difference!
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.
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.
One of the anecdotes you may have heard (particularly if you are pale) is that women with fair skin are more likely to experience sore or damaged nipples. If you have very light skin and painful nipples (as I did), it may be strangely reassuring to be able to attribute at least some of the difficulties you’re experiencing to your colouring. On the other hand, if you have dark skin and sore nipples, you may simply view this kind of statement as irritating nonsense.
The Truth About Breastfeeding 