The hardest thing I've ever done...

Pregnancy and labor were nothing compared to breastfeeding.  While the past two weeks have been wonderful meeting and getting to know our daughter, they've also been the hardest two weeks of my life.  When Eleanor was born, no one at the hospital showed me how to get her to latch on properly.  The lactation consultant who stopped in my room the first two days never got closer than a foot away from my bed, and aside from bringing my a different size nipple shield, didn't offer anything.  And since I'd never breastfed before, I had no idea if I was doing it right so when she asked how it was going I said I thought okay.  Once we got home, things went even more downhill.  Every time I fed Eleanor I was crying and biting my shirt in pain.  I was bleeding and sore.  Finally the Saturday after Eleanor was born Matt called a private lactation consultant to come out to the house.  She showed me how to get Eleanor latched on correctly, which made a world of difference.  But by that point, I was already pretty damaged physically from 5 days of incorrect latching.  When Eleanor was a week old we visited the lactation department at the hospital where she was born.  At this appointment we found out that I already had mastitis. The lactation consultant there wouldn't even let me nurse because I was so hurt and scabbed.  She had me pump and feed Eleanor through a special bottle.  However, after a day of that I wasn't able to keep up with how much Eleanor was eating so I took her off the bottle and started her back on the breast.  This led to two days of Eleanor feeding for 40 minutes at a time, only to wake up 20 minutes later hungry and wanting to eat again.  So we made another trip to a lactation consultant, where we learned two things.  One, Eleanor is a biter.  When she latches on, she likes to chomp down several times before beginning to eat.  Two, she's a lazy nurser.  She likes to fall asleep a few minutes into nursing and is very hard to wake up.  So for the past four days feeding sessions have lasted an hour or more with me feeding Eleanor from both sides twice.  The whole time I'm feeding her I've been doing all sorts of shenanigans to keep her awake - undressing her, changing her diaper, playing with her feet, rubbing her with a cold washcloth - you name it, we've done it.  This is much harder to do by myself now that Matt is back at work.  Today I went to a breastfeeding support group and had a bit of a breakdown.  Eleanor has not really gained any weight in almost a week and she is still only taking an ounce or so at each feeding, which is not nearly enough.  And I can't get her to stay awake, at all.  My milk supply has dropped dramatically because Eleanor isn't eating much, and I'm not eating enough to sustain my milk production because I am feeding Eleanor all the time. The lactation consultant at the support group told me to feed Eleanor every two hours and pump after 4 feedings a day.  This means that I would get an hour or less of sleep/break between feedings all day long.  And I was told that if Eleanor didn't start gaining weight soon, we'd be in trouble.  So after much crying on my part (and I mean the ugly-crying, sobbing kind of crying) and realizing that I'm not able to provide the nourishment that our daughter needs, Matt and I decided tonight that we're done.  We've exhausted our options and in the end, Eleanor needs to grow.  And she needs a mom who enjoys her rather than a mom who dreads when the two hour mark gets close on the clock because it means another feeding, another unsatisfied baby, and more tears.  So tonight Eleanor will get her first bottle of formula.  I breastfed her before dinner tonight and cried knowing that it was likely the last time I would feed her that way.  I'm feeling a lot of guilt.  Breastfeeding was one thing I was determined to make work.  I had even told Matt that he wasn't allowed to let me quit for the first six weeks.  But I never thought I'd want/need to quit because my child wasn't getting what they needed; I always thought I would struggle because of the pain.  Now I can get her latched on decently and once we get through the biting things are usually okay.  But she's not eating, and I don't know how to get her to eat.  I gave Eleanor a bottle of pumped breast milk after feeding her this evening and she gulped it down and is now out cold.  Clearly she was still hungry and I can't bear the thought of starving my child, even unintentionally.  So the plan is for me to pump until my supply is gone, and we will give Eleanor any milk that I pump.  But eventually Eleanor will be on formula only.  Emotionally I'm having a hard time with that, but it's what we feel is best for our family as a whole.  And hopefully someday when we give Eleanor a brother or sister this whole journey is a smoother one.