Number Three, again a girl. Well, there was no question about breastfeeding, I had these babies cracked, nothing could be worse than Number Two but I’d rather have a repeat on Number One, please. I had learnt so much about it all. I’d analysed my mistakes and the mistakes of others, I’d reached conclusions…jeez, I was practically a professional! But I’d missed something important and it came as a shock to realise that successful breastfeeding requires a team of capable people, all doing their bit. It needs a Mum who wants to breastfeed and is determined to do it. It needs a baby who wants to breastfeed and is willing to forgive some of the cack-handed attempts at the start. It needs a professional support, a midwife or counsellor who is not only enthusiastic but also knowledgeable. It needs a cheerleader, generally the Dad, but anyone close can do the job. The cheerleader’s job is to stand on the side saying things like “wow, you’re so great doing that and you look really beautiful too”. And make cups of tea. Also in the team is the person who weighs your baby, a good team player knows not to tell you that your baby hasn’t gained weight and don’t you think you should give it some formula. And the general public who don’t mind hungry babies getting a bit of food on the move and shops who stock the things a breastfeeder does need and stops pushing those heaps of ridiculously priced, completely unnecessary breastfeeder starter kits. As far as I know, one only really needs boobs which are attached and functioning…..

Which is where my problems started with Number Three. Yes, they were attached. They were even functioning. Just, I wasn’t. After repeatedly getting a fever every time the milk tried to come in (which happens on the third-ish day) my extremely helpful and competent midwife advised me to start formula feeding. I was heartbroken. But I had to try and stop producing milk or I’d end up back in hospital. I was so weak from a difficult birth and my breastfeeding team were so scared that I was not going to pull through, I had no choice. Along with formula feeds for baby, I also drank sage tea, which is milk reducing. Every time my breasts felt full to bursting, I would let Number Three ease the pressure by drinking a bit. This was because I hoped that, once I was well enough, I would be able to exclusively breastfeed again. It took three months to get to this point. But it was so wonderful to realise that she didn’t need topping up again, that I was doing it by myself. I was very reluctant to wean her when she was nearly 10 months old. But she wasn’t, she didn’t notice, she didn’t want it anymore. This experience was, well, different to the others but: I was supported all the way.