The pits

This report on a recent study has me livid.  Particularly this:

Analysis of the records of more than 48,000 women who gave birth in South Wales found that use of the clotting agents oxytocin or ergometrine was associated with a 7 per cent decline in the proportion who started breastfeeding within 48 hours of giving birth.
It is thought that the drugs may impede a woman’s ability to produce milk, suggesting that mothers who have them may need greater time or support from midwives if they wish to breastfeed their baby.

 I fought like hell, like a freaking gladiator, to establish breastfeeding with my daughter.  For eight weeks I pumped and supplemented her after every. single. feed.  I was on handfuls domperidone to help establish supply for almost four months (and that stuff ain't cheap) in addition to fennugreek (made me stink) and blessed thistle (blegh! bitter!).

I would do it all again, in a heartbeat, in an instant, without an inkling of hesitation.  It was the right choice, it was the right thing to do, and now, at pushing 16 months old, my child is still exclusively breastfed and gets greater joy out of nursing, out of my body, than just about anything else.  It nearly breaks my heart with joy.  But my heart broke, and broke again, and broke again, when I saw that slipping away from us in those critical first days and weeks.

And the fact that my midwife gave me an unnecessary and potentially harmful shot of pitocin to "help the placenta along" makes me want to storm over to her office and give her an earful.

As I posted on a thread in a discussion on Facebook the other day: get the f*#k out of my womb, get the f*#k out of my vagina and let me do it.