Updated: June 3, 2020
Originally Published: July 3, 2019
My husband and I welcomed four wonderful children into our lives through adoption over an eight-year period. We’ve often faced questions about why we chose not to have biological children. With a warm smile, I remind them that our children are just as much ours as any biological child. After my diagnosis with an autoimmune disorder, we felt that adoption was the right path for our family.
Throughout our journey, friends and family would occasionally ask if I missed the experience of pregnancy. I have never felt the sensation of a baby moving inside me, nor have I experienced cravings in the middle of the night, ultrasounds, or the planning that accompanies childbirth. Strangers have never approached me to touch my belly or inquire about my baby’s gender.
While both pregnancy and adoption culminate in having a child, the experiences are vastly different. I had come to terms with that, except for one lingering desire: I yearned to breastfeed.
Growing up, I witnessed my mother breastfeed not only me but also my two younger siblings. In my circle, breastfeeding was the norm; I cannot recall a single relative or close family friend who used a bottle. Back then, there were no social media debates about the merits of breastmilk versus formula—just a simple understanding that breastfeeding was a natural choice.
During the 14 months we waited for our first baby, I immersed myself in books about adoption, wanting to be fully prepared. One day, while browsing at the library, I stumbled upon a book titled Breastfeeding the Adopted Baby and Relactation. I felt an overwhelming urge to check it out, yet I was embarrassed that the librarian might judge me for wanting to read it. After several visits, I finally gathered the courage and took the book home. I consumed its content in one sitting, fascinated by the idea that women who had never given birth could potentially induce lactation through specific protocols.
A week later, I visited my doctor, eager to discuss the possibility of switching my birth control pill to one better suited for inducing lactation and exploring how to obtain Domperidone. These medications were recommended by the protocol I had researched, alongside certain supplements and a pumping schedule to establish a milk supply before our baby arrived. However, when I explained my intentions, the nurse looked at me as if I had just claimed that dinosaurs were alive. Feeling disheartened, I didn’t want to give up. I re-read the book and took copious notes, determined to find a way.
Months later, at a routine visit with my endocrinologist, I shared the exciting news of our adoption and mentioned my interest in adoptive nursing. She responded quietly, “I didn’t know that was possible,” before changing the subject. I left that appointment feeling embarrassed and discouraged.
Perhaps I should have had more confidence in my convictions, but as a new mom navigating the complexities of adoption, I was unsure of myself. After 14 long months, we received the call we had been waiting for: a birth mother had chosen us to adopt her baby girl. We were ecstatic and rushed to prepare for our new arrival.
When our daughter turned one and a half, I felt ready to adopt again. We didn’t want to delay finding a sibling for her, so we completed the necessary paperwork and home inspections. I briefly entertained the idea of nursing again, but then something unexpected happened—we were selected to adopt another daughter on our very first day of waiting. She was already born, and we had little time to consider how we would feed her. Within a day, we were on our way to meet her.
As time went on, I felt the urge to expand our family again. We went through the home study process once more, and just two months later, we were matched with an expectant mother who was seven months pregnant with a boy. I hoped that the two months would give me enough time to prepare for nursing. I rented a breast pump, set a pumping schedule, and gathered the necessary herbs, but the demands of the process proved overwhelming. Despite producing some drops during my pumping efforts, I ultimately decided to pause.
When our son arrived, we used bottles to feed him, as our hands were already full with three children under four. I stepped away from my teaching job to become a full-time stay-at-home mom. My son was a delightful little one. During moments when it was just the two of us, I pondered the possibility of nursing him.
Adoptive nursing can take many forms. As Alyssa Schnell, author of Breastfeeding Without Birthing, emphasizes, it’s about building a bond between parent and child. Options include bottle nursing, where the bottle is held against the breast for skin-to-skin contact, pumping followed by bottle feeding, using a supplemental nursing system, or comfort nursing.
Though I had given up on achieving a full or partial milk supply due to the demands of motherhood, I remembered the drops I had produced previously. Why not give it a try? I attempted to nurse my son a few times, and while it started with just thirty seconds, he gradually nursed for several minutes as the weeks went by.
Some might wonder why I felt the need to nurse. After all, he was receiving all his nutrition from formula. Did I feel inadequate as a mother without nursing? Was I trying to fulfill a fantasy of biological motherhood? The truth is simple: I chose to nurse him because it felt right for both of us. We enjoyed this special bond for a year, and it was a truly magical experience.
Four years after my son’s birth, we adopted another daughter. I found it challenging to pump again, and we didn’t establish a nursing relationship. I longed to, but parenting four young children demanded my full attention.
Despite the obstacles I faced with pumping and the doubts from others, I am incredibly grateful that I followed my instincts and nursed my son. Just six months after our fourth child was born, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Six weeks later, I underwent a bilateral mastectomy.
It has been two years since my surgery, and I still mourn the loss of my breasts. Yet, I find comfort in the cherished memories of those quiet moments when I held my son, his body fitting perfectly in my arms.
For more information on the journey of home insemination and the options available, you can visit this excellent resource: March of Dimes. And if you’re interested in understanding more about home insemination kits, check out BabyMaker at Home Insemination Kit. Also, for details on privacy policies, please refer to Intracervical Insemination.
Summary:
The author shares her experience of breastfeeding her adopted son, reflecting on her journey through adoption, the challenges of inducing lactation, and the emotional connection she formed by nursing. Despite facing obstacles and doubts, she cherishes the moments spent nursing her child, which became even more significant after her battle with breast cancer.