Everything I Learned about Breastfeeding, I Learned in the Army

Before I had my first child, I had never seen a woman nurse her baby in real life. Never. I was a product of the 80’s, when formula was the norm and breastfeeding was something just in the background. Breastfeeding a baby just wasn’t something I was exposed to, had any interest in, or knowledge about. It wasn’t until I had to attend my first mandatory maternity class at Ft. Stewart, Georgia that I learned about all sorts of things related to the early stages of caring for a newborn.

At Ft. Stewart, all pregnant and postpartum soldiers had to attend consolidated “pregnancy PT.” Depending on how far along you were in your pregnancy, you were assigned to your respective trimester group which corresponded to the level of difficulty the exercise program provided. By the time a woman reached the third trimester group, she would do a lot of walking. Each section was supervised and led by trained personnel who would provide a meaningful and safe environment for the women, while ensuring physical activity was achieved. Assigned personnel reported to the gym at 0630 everyday, just as every other Dogface Soldier did their PT across the post. However on Thursdays, pregnant and postpartum ladies reported to an auditorium for informational classes in preparation for their new baby.

To my absolute surprise, the Thursday classes were some of the best and most helpful training sessions I have ever attended in my military career. Unlike the trite annual training where I had to re-learn how to don and doff a gas mask or how to conduct my 5s and 25s during a convoy, many of the pregnancy trainings I received provided the foundation I needed to set my body and my newborn up for success. From why you shouldn’t give a newborn strawberries or honey, to understanding the difference between Braxton-Hicks contractions and real contractions, to understanding birthing options, the classes provided were incredibly thoughtful and were provided by accredited professionals from the installation hospital. Many of the classes were informative, applicable, and real, like how to recognize signs of postpartum depression. Many not-new moms also shared their experiences with the group which helped bolster the lectured content. 

The topics on Thursday mornings varied, but the classes that made the largest and most surprising difference to me were on breastfeeding. Yup, a skill as old as humanity. I had no idea what to expect of my body, how to hold my baby when trying to feed her, or what the litany of benefits to nursing were. The first few days the colostrum, or “liquid gold,” would flow through before the regular milk. There was the football, cradle, and cross-body hold. Breastmilk would make my baby’s poop look like hilarious mustard seed dollops. If my baby wouldn’t open her mouth, just squeeze some milk out and rub it under her nose. If you feed your baby with one breast and she fills up, pump the other and grow your supply for when you have to go back to work. To get a good “latch,” hold your breast this way and make sure it fits comfortably in your baby’s roof of her mouth. It shouldn’t be painful. Perhaps use lanolin if some chafing or tenderness occurs. While nursing, expect some cramping as this action helps to contract one’s uterus back to its normal size. Tips on how to treat engorgement and alleviate the beginning of blocked ducts…. 

All of this was news to me. I was completely naive, but I remained open-minded. Was I going to attempt this very foreign task? When I told my husband about the nursing classes, he was in the same boat as me. He had never seen a female nurse before, so we just agreed that I’d give it a shot. No pressure. No guilt. No nothing. 

One hour after my baby was born, the nurse asked if I wanted to try and feed her. In a very matter of fact manner, I said, “Sure.” I didn’t know what to expect, so I was utterly shocked how my daughter took to it and how my body did what it was supposed to! I employed all the tactics I had learned. My husband was equally as impressed with my new found skills. From that point on, where the baby and I went, so did the Boppy Pillow. If you don’t know what that is, it's an absolute must for nursing moms and babies. 

I continued to nurse and then pump when I had to go back to work. At first, I really didn’t give nursing and pumping much thought after the first few weeks, besides at my level of annoyance when I had to pump inside the ladies’ locker room, when returning to work. Then when I asked my mom-friends and co-workers about their babies and breastfeeding, I started to feel guilty. Apparently, many mothers wanted to breastfeed and felt drawn to it. I saw it more as a transactional event and less of a do-or-die bonding experience. Don’t get me wrong, nursing is a beautiful and human thing, but I never attached my motherhood or womanhood to the act. I thought more women knew more about nursing than me, but I think I was wrong.

In my further discussions, I came to learn that many non-Ft. Stewart soldier-mothers didn’t get the level of training or support that I had. Either the other mothers didn’t feel confident or comfortable to nurse even with a lactation consultant, or they experienced pain from blocked mammary ducts or cracked nipples. I really thought that I was the one behind the eight ball when it came to breastfeeding. As rigid and prescribed as the Army can be, this is one area that they got it right in preparing me for this basic human task. I wish all other mothers, across the country, had access to pregnancy fitness training, prenatal classes, and a large cohort group of women to ask candid questions to. I didn’t know the impact that the mandatory pregnancy PT would have on me and, at the same time, how unusual it was. But I’m so glad that I was made to attend. As unexpecting and odd as it is to confess, everything I learned about breastfeeding, I learned from the Army, and I’m grateful for it. There was no way I could have fully learned all that I did on my own.