You may not remember me...
Dear Monica,
You may not remember me, but I will never forget you.
As excited and expectant new parents, we took the advice of many friends and interviewed and hired Dr. Gvozden in 2011. On August 14, 2011 our first daughter, Clara Hope, was born. Dr. Gvozden was out of town so we saw another doctor in the hospital. Clara and I were having breastfeeding difficulties, but I had done a ton of research and was very reassured by the nurses, Doctor, and lactation consultant that while we were off to a rough start, things were on track. When she was 4 days old, Kim Knight IBCLC came to our house per my request as I wanted to be assured we were doing all we could to make this work and have Clara thrive. I knew between my PCOS, her tongue tie, and the use of a nipple shield that we had an uphill battle so I wanted as much support in place as possible. Kim and I made a plan, she watched me nurse Clara and told me she had never seen a new mom so comfortable nursing - I was lounging and walking around while feeding her and she reiterated how impressed she was with me. I didn't know that I was doing anything special but it was certainly nice to have the reassurance of a professional that I was doing it right.
If only the support continued when we took Clara into your office that afternoon. You immediately told me she was dehydrated, grabbed her from me, grilled me, and told me you were going to get formula for her to eat in the office. Before I could ask questions, before I could understand what the concern was. You didn't know I had done all my research. You didn't know I was aware of possible slow weight gain or low supply. You didn't know because you didn't ask. Luckily, my husband and I were able to gather our thoughts as you were grabbing nipples for the formula bottles enough that I could say "Wait, I don't think I want to introduce formula this early. It could hurt my supply." You very, very hesitantly said I didn't have to feed her the formula but insisted I bring it home and make an appointment for a weight check in two days. When I brought up her tongue tie, you denied that was an issue. The only concern you showed was when I started crying, you asked if we had support. Because obviously a mom at 4 days post partum whose breastfeeding goals are being stomped on isn't reason enough to cry, it must be because I don't have enough support at home. Because a mom getting emotional when someone she's never met but is supposed to trust with her daughters care is running around frantic acting like my newborn was knocking on deaths door, but that went against everything every nurse, pediatrician, and lactation consultant said, shouldn't be crying. Something must be wrong with the mom, right?
Well that is certainly how you and the front office staff made me feel. When I called back to cancel the weight check because I immediately found a new pediatrician (after taking her to Annapolos ENT who confirmed that yes, she did have a tongue tie), the office told me if I didn't bring Clara back in, it was "illegal." I had no idea what that meant so I brought her back in. It wasn't until years later when discussing awful post partum medical care with a friend, that I came to the realization that you were going to report me to CPS if I didn't come. Because maybe you thought I was starving my baby? That thought never even entered my mind, ever, which I was I was so confused as to why you were acting so harsh. Which is why when I talked to Kim (a lot - I worked with her for the first month of Clara's life), who said she saw you over the weekend and you mentioned you were concerned about me and "that baby", I legitimately had no idea why.
I'm almost five years and another child into motherhood now so I know now that you see awful things. You must see newborns starve, sometimes at the hands of their own parents. You didn't want that to happen to Clara; I get that now. But do you want to know what else happens a lot? New moms are loving, hormonal, scared, excited, determined, confused, knowledgeable, and vulnerable. You were probably concerned I had post partum depression, but what you don't know is that you triggered post partum depression in me. You, as a pediatric nurse practitioner, have the ability to support and learn from and guide new families, but acting out of fear, you did the opposite. And I've talked to friends who have had similar experiences with you.
I didn't manage to breastfeed Clara past 6 weeks. I couldn't get over feeling like I might be starving her, because you had put that thought into my mind, and rather than offer support, you offered condemnation. And my next child? We are back home living in Alaska now, and my children see the same pediatrician I saw as a child. I worked with midwives, lactation consultants, and that amazing pediatrician and I nursed her until she was 14 months. It was hard. It was extra work for everyone involved. And when that pediatrician looked me in my eyes that were welling with tears because I was worried history would repeat itself and said "I trust you, we want you to breastfeed, keep doing what you're doing." My heart swelled, and yet - a voice in the back of my head said "what if he doesn't trust you? What if he treats you the way Monica did?"
I know that you can't help that I was predisposed to get post partum depression and anxiety. It's not your fault that I wasn't able to continue to breastfeed Clara. But you triggered fears in me I didn't even know I had, and you have the ability and opportunities to do so much better.
I know there's a good chance you'll read this letter, roll your eyes, and throw it away. I know there's a better chance you'll write me back and passively apologize that "I had a hard time" but defend your actions and insist Clara was sicker than I realized (and maybe she was - but you still didn't handle it appropriately), and the thought of getting a response like that is what's kept me from writing this letter for nearly five years. I don't want to open up old wounds that I've worked so hard on healing for myself. But you know what? There's a chance, albeit small, that maybe the next time you see something other than the typical newborn or new mom who breastfeed a perfectly or goes straight to formula, that you'll ask questions, hold hands, provide proper support, or refer her to someone who can. And if this letter makes you think twice next time that mom of a 4 day old comes in, wearing s nursing tank covered in spit up, then I can't regret sending this.
Sincerely,
Erynne
You may not remember me, but I will never forget you.
As excited and expectant new parents, we took the advice of many friends and interviewed and hired Dr. Gvozden in 2011. On August 14, 2011 our first daughter, Clara Hope, was born. Dr. Gvozden was out of town so we saw another doctor in the hospital. Clara and I were having breastfeeding difficulties, but I had done a ton of research and was very reassured by the nurses, Doctor, and lactation consultant that while we were off to a rough start, things were on track. When she was 4 days old, Kim Knight IBCLC came to our house per my request as I wanted to be assured we were doing all we could to make this work and have Clara thrive. I knew between my PCOS, her tongue tie, and the use of a nipple shield that we had an uphill battle so I wanted as much support in place as possible. Kim and I made a plan, she watched me nurse Clara and told me she had never seen a new mom so comfortable nursing - I was lounging and walking around while feeding her and she reiterated how impressed she was with me. I didn't know that I was doing anything special but it was certainly nice to have the reassurance of a professional that I was doing it right.
If only the support continued when we took Clara into your office that afternoon. You immediately told me she was dehydrated, grabbed her from me, grilled me, and told me you were going to get formula for her to eat in the office. Before I could ask questions, before I could understand what the concern was. You didn't know I had done all my research. You didn't know I was aware of possible slow weight gain or low supply. You didn't know because you didn't ask. Luckily, my husband and I were able to gather our thoughts as you were grabbing nipples for the formula bottles enough that I could say "Wait, I don't think I want to introduce formula this early. It could hurt my supply." You very, very hesitantly said I didn't have to feed her the formula but insisted I bring it home and make an appointment for a weight check in two days. When I brought up her tongue tie, you denied that was an issue. The only concern you showed was when I started crying, you asked if we had support. Because obviously a mom at 4 days post partum whose breastfeeding goals are being stomped on isn't reason enough to cry, it must be because I don't have enough support at home. Because a mom getting emotional when someone she's never met but is supposed to trust with her daughters care is running around frantic acting like my newborn was knocking on deaths door, but that went against everything every nurse, pediatrician, and lactation consultant said, shouldn't be crying. Something must be wrong with the mom, right?
Well that is certainly how you and the front office staff made me feel. When I called back to cancel the weight check because I immediately found a new pediatrician (after taking her to Annapolos ENT who confirmed that yes, she did have a tongue tie), the office told me if I didn't bring Clara back in, it was "illegal." I had no idea what that meant so I brought her back in. It wasn't until years later when discussing awful post partum medical care with a friend, that I came to the realization that you were going to report me to CPS if I didn't come. Because maybe you thought I was starving my baby? That thought never even entered my mind, ever, which I was I was so confused as to why you were acting so harsh. Which is why when I talked to Kim (a lot - I worked with her for the first month of Clara's life), who said she saw you over the weekend and you mentioned you were concerned about me and "that baby", I legitimately had no idea why.
I'm almost five years and another child into motherhood now so I know now that you see awful things. You must see newborns starve, sometimes at the hands of their own parents. You didn't want that to happen to Clara; I get that now. But do you want to know what else happens a lot? New moms are loving, hormonal, scared, excited, determined, confused, knowledgeable, and vulnerable. You were probably concerned I had post partum depression, but what you don't know is that you triggered post partum depression in me. You, as a pediatric nurse practitioner, have the ability to support and learn from and guide new families, but acting out of fear, you did the opposite. And I've talked to friends who have had similar experiences with you.
I didn't manage to breastfeed Clara past 6 weeks. I couldn't get over feeling like I might be starving her, because you had put that thought into my mind, and rather than offer support, you offered condemnation. And my next child? We are back home living in Alaska now, and my children see the same pediatrician I saw as a child. I worked with midwives, lactation consultants, and that amazing pediatrician and I nursed her until she was 14 months. It was hard. It was extra work for everyone involved. And when that pediatrician looked me in my eyes that were welling with tears because I was worried history would repeat itself and said "I trust you, we want you to breastfeed, keep doing what you're doing." My heart swelled, and yet - a voice in the back of my head said "what if he doesn't trust you? What if he treats you the way Monica did?"
I know that you can't help that I was predisposed to get post partum depression and anxiety. It's not your fault that I wasn't able to continue to breastfeed Clara. But you triggered fears in me I didn't even know I had, and you have the ability and opportunities to do so much better.
I know there's a good chance you'll read this letter, roll your eyes, and throw it away. I know there's a better chance you'll write me back and passively apologize that "I had a hard time" but defend your actions and insist Clara was sicker than I realized (and maybe she was - but you still didn't handle it appropriately), and the thought of getting a response like that is what's kept me from writing this letter for nearly five years. I don't want to open up old wounds that I've worked so hard on healing for myself. But you know what? There's a chance, albeit small, that maybe the next time you see something other than the typical newborn or new mom who breastfeed a perfectly or goes straight to formula, that you'll ask questions, hold hands, provide proper support, or refer her to someone who can. And if this letter makes you think twice next time that mom of a 4 day old comes in, wearing s nursing tank covered in spit up, then I can't regret sending this.
Sincerely,
Erynne
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