It turns out babies really don’t have any survival skills other than being very cute. They put all their chips down on the cuteness factor. My son, God bless, doesn’t even have the muscle control to raise his head on his own and yet he keeps trying to swan dive himself out of my arms at any given opportunity (it’s starting to feel a little personal). It also took him several days to figure out how to eat properly. (Warning: this column will discuss breastfeeding.) 

It’s not that I thought breastfeeding wouldn’t come with struggles or involve a learning curve, but naively I assumed the issues would be on my end. I figured babies came out of the womb knowing how to instinctively swallow because that’s basically their only job for the first several months of life, and it’s how they, you know, keep living.

But apparently not all babies. They say practice makes perfect and that is proving true, but there isn’t exactly a ton of time to practice and wait to improve when it comes to “feeding a newborn.” It’s a pretty urgent situation. 

Sonny’s gotten the full carousel of newborn feeding options. In the hospital he got some donor breast milk, because my supply hadn’t come in yet. He was so small and new they gave it to him in a syringe, not even a bottle. I myself have donated blood, platelets, hair and even a kidney, but this was my first time being the donation recipient, and I’m so, so grateful to the people who put in the blood, sweat and tears (not a metaphor, as I am now intimately familiar with the electric breast pump) to help make sure my kiddo got his first meal.

Then we realized a few days after we got home (I think in the wee hours of a Saturday morning? Time is meaningless right now.) that he was showing some signs of mild dehydration, meaning he wasn’t getting enough nutrition straight from the source.

It wasn’t a supply issue — I’m a productive little dairy cow — but a mechanical one. So while we built up a supply of bottled milk, we gave him formula to fill the gap. There’s a lot of internet mom debates about formula versus breastfeeding but let me tell you, I don’t know I’ve ever felt such a sense of relief in my life as when my son sucked down those two ounces of formula and fell into a deep sleep, as opposed to the restless little naps he had been. 

Breastfeeding is an easy and natural process in the way that making a diamond is an easy and natural process. If you were someone whose baby took to it instantly and easily, I congratulate you on your experience but please don’t tell me about it. I’m clinging to sanity by a thread here.

The first time we attempted it in the hospital, it took four adults to get him successfully on. I’m not kidding. Why new moms don’t grow an extra pair of arms in addition to a placenta, I don’t know. Serious oversight on evolution’s part.

If you’d asked me two weeks ago what a “deep latch” was, I probably would have guessed something that goes in a car door. Now it is the sole goal of my life. I am Captain Ahab and the deep latch is my white whale, this mythical mechanical maneuver that will enable my son to feed from me painlessly. (Painless for me, that is. He seems to be having a great time.)

My poor chest feels like it’s gone nine rounds with Mike Tyson. Specifically the match where he bit part of that guy’s ear off. Our pediatrician assures me that my son does not have tiny double rows of shark teeth in his mouth, but I have my doubts. Every medical professional will tell you that breastfeeding isn’t supposed to hurt; every parent I’ve talked to who went through it says oh, yeah, it hurts like hell for awhile at first. 

Thank goodness for the lactation consultant team (yes, this is a real medical job!). They helped me figure out that apparently my son doesn’t like to eat with clothes on. The official diagnosis is “he gets too cozy” and falls asleep immediately. To be fair, if I was wearing a onesie and drinking warm milk while being cuddled I’d probably fall asleep immediately too. 

Bottle companies will lie and tell you that their products mimic the human nipple experience. This is untrue. Nobody would buy a bottle that accurately imitated the human body like that; it would be hilariously inconvenient and babies would probably give it zero star reviews on the internet. Which we found out because in bottle feeding him for a week, it turns out we accidentally made it too easy for him to drink from the bottle, so he didn’t want to go back to working for it at the chest.

As the consultant told me, babies are lazy. And honestly, I get it; if I had an easier, more convenient option for something I’d probably choose it too. Sonny isn’t old enough to be told that doing things the hard, old fashioned way builds character. 

However, we have all been working at it, and I’m happy to report he is successfully gaining weight! I cried at the well child check when they told me he had exceeded his birth weight. Of course I also cried at that visit because I saw a child in the waiting room get really excited about the fish tank. And then on the drive home I cried because of a Crosby, Stills and Nash song. Honestly, Sonny and I have spent a lot of our first week together crying together in our diapers.

Already, we have so much in common.