My wife forgot how to breastfeed.

My wife forgot how to breastfeed.<br><br>It sounds ridiculous even typing it out. But it’s true. And I don’t know what to do about it.<br><br>Our daughter is almost eight months old. My wife had a really tough birth anesthesia story and afterwards she struggled with post partum depression. And although she was able to breastfeed when we brought her home from the hospital, she struggled with sore nipples and a low milk supply. So we switched to formula.<br><br>It was a really tough few months. I remember coming home from work one day and my wife was crying in the living room. I asked her what was wrong. She told me the baby had been fussy all day and she had to drive two hours to the hospital so they could do an LGA and confirm she had enough milk. She was barely holding it together as she explained how they had done the procedure and she had an overabundance of milk. I don’t know why it is, but she sounded like she had just been told she was already out of the clear and needed to chemo. I held her until she stopped sobbing. I think that’s when I really figured out I was about to be a solo provider for a while. It’s hard to explain. I knew it when we married. But I thought we were always going to be a big strong tree with deep roots and spread out branches. Not this delicate flower that would easily be knocked down by a strong wind. But life had knocked us around a bit. A layoff, a move, a few close calls with illness. I had to accept that the person I loved – the strong and capable person I had thought she was – was actually a little more fragile than I thought. And that was just as good. Because I was there to hold her, to hold us together.<br><br>But now she was trying to breastfeed.<br><br>I sat on the couch as she held the baby in her arms. She opened her mouth, positioning the nipple. The baby lunged forward and started to suck. My wife closed her eyes and braced herself.<br><br>Nothing happened.<br><br>The baby started to cry. My wife tried again. And again. And again.<br><br>Nothing happened.<br><br>Finally I sat down next to her. I tried. I really did. I had read all the books. I knew what I was doing. I positioned the baby. I covered her nipple. The baby started to suck and I started to throb. My wife watched. After a moment or two I stopped. The baby kept sucking. I could see the muscles in her neck start to twitch as she started to root. I covered her nipple again. The baby kept sucking. Still nothing happened.<br><br>I tried different positions. I covered her nipple. I rubbed her nipples. Nothing happened.<br><br>I called a lactation consultant. She came over. She watched. She asked questions. She tried different positions and coverings and rubbings. Nothing happened.<br><br>Then she asked me to step outside with the baby while she talked to my wife.<br><br>I didn’t know what to do. I felt so awkward just standing in the living room. I kept hearing my wife crying in there. Every once in a while the lactation consultant would come out and tell me something the baby was eating was too big and she needed to burp. So I’d take her outside on the front steps and try to calm her down. But I couldn’t focus. I kept thinking about my wife in there, sobbing.<br><br>The lactation consultant finally came out and told me to take the baby to the park. My wife could relax while she came up with a plan.<br><br>At the park the baby started crying immediately. I tried to calm her down. I finally got her to stop sobbing after about fifteen minutes. Then I sat on a bench and stared at my phone. I was so worried about my wife. I kept checking the time thinking about how long the consultation could take. Finally after what felt like hours I drove back home.<br><br>I found my wife in bed. The lactation consultant was in the living room. Two Xanax. A full glass of water. She told me she was going to the hospital to have her milk supply triggered.<br><br>I begged her not to go. I don’t know why I said it. I was desperate. I just didn’t want her to have to go through more pain.<br><br>She told me injection was her idea. She wanted to try anything at this point.<br><br>She grabbed a few things and we drove to the hospital. When we got there she went straight to the ER and they gave her the injection. As we waited for it to take effect she tried to breastfeed again. Nothing happened.<br><br>After what felt like hours the injection finally took effect. My wife was in so much pain she could barely walk. She begged me to take her home.<br><br>We got home. She collapsed on the bed.<br><br>The next day she called the hospital and made an appointment with an endocrine specialist.<br><br>The next day she couldn’t get out of bed.<br><br>The next day she finally made it out.<br><br>The specialist did some blood work. She had plenty of prolactin. Everything looked good from that standpoint. Whatever was causing my wife’s lack of milk, it wasn’t hormonal.<br><br>A week later the specialist called back with the results. She told my wife to keep trying to breastfeed. To pump if she had to. To take more Xanax if needed. But there was nothing more she could do.<br><br>My wife tried. Really she did. She breastfed every hour or two for hours on end. She pumped all the time. She took more Xanax. Nothing happened.<br><br>Our daughter is almost nine months old. My wife hasn’t breastfed in months. The baby is still somewhat fussy. And my wife – my poor wife – has started crying every time the baby is near her. She keeps saying how useless she is. I keep trying to tell her how much I appreciate her. How she’s the best mom in the world. But she just keeps sobbing.