Milk

I had heard of donating breast milk for sick babies, and so I asked at the hospital if someone could help me make arrangements. I was at a smallish suburban hospital, and no one there knew anything about it. I was so determined that there had to be a way to make it happen that I asked them to bring me a breast pump anyway, so I could start my body on a regular pumping schedule. Looking back I must have seemed crazy.
With some help from my mother and husband, I tracked down Mother's Milk Bank of North Texas.
I pumped every 6 hours around the clock for the last 6 weeks, and I just weaned this past week in preparation for going back to work. As I read that, it seems sort of obsessive. But I am so grateful I did it. I had been very committed to breastfeeding Oliver and am a huge believer in the value of it, it broke my heart to waste the milk my body was working so hard to make for my lost son. The hospital I work at has a huge NICU, and so many of the babies can't tolerate formula but their moms are unable to pump enough milk for them due to premature delivery or other problems. My co-worker's daughter was born at 24 weeks, and she tells heartbreaking stories of her NICU physicians and nurses explaining again and again how much her weak, sick baby needed breast milk, and that she would pump and pump until her nipples bled only to get one ounce, or maybe two on a really good day. What an incredible gift I had to offer, then, that I could pump 8 ounces in a sitting without any trouble or complications. What better way to honor my son and begin to forgive my body. And I hope, had we suffered a different tragedy and had a need like that that I could not fill, that another mother would have reached out anonymously to help me and my child.