Silver Linings

By: Alona Shaked

The subject of grief and loss has been coming up a lot for me recently. Not in the sense of physical death, thank goodness, but in more of a figurative way. I’m finally pregnant after 2 years of struggling, trying to control the uncontrollable, praying, bargaining, and striving. And now that I am here, while there is a sense of relief that the goal was achieved as well as great excitement for what lies ahead, I’ve noticed that there is also some sadness finally coming to the surface.

This month, I will be posting about grief and loss, and how to thrive despite such circumstances.

Today, in honor of World Breastfeeding Week, I will start with a “delayed loss” that I technically experienced almost 9 years ago, but that I didn’t really have to face until now.

Thanks to breast cancer, I had surgery to remove both of my breasts (a double mastectomy). Breastfeeding is now impossible because I do not have milk ducts, breast tissue, or real nipples. On some levels, this doesn’t feel like such a big loss. To be honest, I know there are women out there who LOVE breastfeeding, but I don’t think I would have been one of them. Frankly, while I wanted it more than anything in the world and am so grateful to be expecting, I also don’t LOVE being pregnant, which I will get into in my next blog post.

And it’s not even so much the loss of the ability to give my baby the BEST nourishment either that bothers me. I’ve done my homework, and while I certainly think there are benefits to breastfeeding I also think that FED IS BEST, and many women who still have their breasts struggle to be able to breastfeed, including my own mother and many of my close friends. I think I would have gotten over that one as well.

What’s actually challenging for me is that it feels like the option was taken from me without even giving me a fair chance to decide for myself, or to try. And whereas before, when the only stabbing reminders of this loss were watching the occasional woman breastfeed in public, now the triggers are everywhere. I get asked about my breastfeeding plans at doctors appointments (hello people, read my chart!) Well-meaning friends, even those who were with me during my cancer treatment, now offer me unsolicited breastfeeding advice.

In the beginning, I felt anger and frustration when these triggers would come up, but now that I’ve made the connection to grief and sadness, it’s so much easier to process that and let it roll off my shoulders. That being said, I plan to have a very large sign in my hospital room reminding the nursing staff that my baby will be bottle-fed and that we will all be just fine! I also plan to try and obtain donor breast milk for my baby, to the extent possible. There is some evidence that breast milk has benefits, so why not see if I can get my hands on some? And I am extremely grateful that formula exists and will be a solid (or liquid in this case) backup for my little girl. Oh yeah, it’s a GIRL!

This loss sucks. But by accepting it and being mindful of the grief and sadness I feel, I can move past it and make my lemonade. I can raise awareness about this issue so that other women in my position get additional sensitivity from birthing classes and medical staff. I can focus on having a healthy and well-fed baby girl, getting extra sleep since I won’t be waking up to pump and feed every few hours, and toasting with a glass of champagne at the hospital. I can focus on these silver linings 🙂

More on thriving through grief and loss next week…