Long before my bouncing baby boy entered my life, I knew I would be
breastfeeding.

I’d read all the studies that detailed how breast milk was the ideal food
for infants, the biological norm that provided the perfect combination of
nutrients and immune system boosters for baby, and plenty of health
benefits for mom too, such as a decreased risk of breast and ovarian
cancers.

While I knew I was making the best decision for myself and my newborn, I
didn’t realize that my decision would eventually give many other babies,
most of whom I’d never meet, the best chance for survival as well.

Five months after nourishing my son to a healthy 17 pounds, I shipped two
gallons of breast milk to the Mother’s Milk Bank of Ohio. The bank would
later send my milk to neonatal intensive care units across the United
States and Canada to be dispensed as medicine for dozens of babies, most
born prematurely, to protect their fragile bodies as they fought to
survive.

The day before I made my shipment, I learned that a colleague had given
birth to a 1 pound, 7 ounce baby girl, born at 25 weeks gestation. My
colleague, a young professional sista like myself who I met through a
service group, had suffered two previous stillbirths. Her daughter’s
survival was a blessing, a true miracle – but the little girl had a long
battle ahead of her.

The doctors in the NICU told her that donor milk would provide the best
nutrition for her little one. Meanwhile, my milk was being processed for
shipment to one of 45 hospitals served by the Mother’s Milk Bank of Ohio,
including the one where her baby was being treated in the NICU. We both
recognized the possibility that her daughter could be one of the precious
little ones that would receive my milk.

As we work to increase breastfeeding rates in the black community and
ensure all babies receive their mother’s milk, I hope more black babies
can have access to breast milk even if it doesn’t come from their own
mothers. Through milk donation, we can not only give our own babies the
best start, we can do the same for so many others.

According to the Centers for Disease Control, black infants have an infant
mortality rate 2.4 times higher than that of white infants, “primarily due
to preterm birth,” and black women’s risk of preterm birth is about 1.5
times higher than the risk for white women.

Beyond a few news articles and television reports, I didn’t know much
about the growing need for human milk donation for babies, particularly
ones born prematurely. Their mothers aren’t yet able to make enough milk
because of the baby’s prematurity or their own health has been
compromised. Low birth weight babies in particular are at greater risk for
necrotizing enterocolitis, a gastrointestinal disease that destroys the
bowel and accounts for high death rates among preemies. According to a
2012 study in the Journal of Perinatology, black infants were most likely
to die from NEC than other races (mortality rates were 27 percent).
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3289772/

Because of breast milk’s protective components and easier digestibility,
preemies receiving donor milk are much less likely to contract the
disease. Breastfeeding and milk donation could make a significant dent in
the infant mortality rate among black babies.

After doing some research, I called the Mother’s Milk Bank of Ohio, one of
about a dozen non-profit banks under the Human Milk Banking Association of
North America umbrella (https://www.hmbana.org). The milk banks screen
potential donors through a lifestyle questionnaire and blood tests, and
approved donor moms ship the milk to a central location or drop it off at
an approved pick-up spot. The milk is eventually thawed, pooled,
pasteurized, then refrozen and shipped to NICUs.

Diane Bates of the Mother’s Milk Bank of Ohio said 210,000 ounces from the
Ohio bank alone were shipped to NICUs in 2012, and hospitals continue to
order more as they become more aware of the benefits of mother’s milk. New
donors are constantly needed though to prevent shortages – when the Ohio
bank first started, it took up to four weeks to fill all of the orders
from hospitals. Thanks to greater awareness and outreach, an order can be
filled within 3-4 days.

After going through what I now recognize as a typical rough start to my
breastfeeding journey – cracked nipples, mastitis, thrush, recommendations
for formula supplementation because my milk took five days to “come in” –
I found myself producing more milk than my son needed. I began freezing
bags of pumped milk in preparation for my return to work, happy that my
career outside the home wouldn’t disrupt our nursing relationship.

The freezer stash grew as I found that what I pumped at work was more than
enough for my son to eat at daycare or with a sitter the next day. Within
two months, we had more than 100 frozen ounces of milk. My son is a
champion eater, but there was no way he would get through that much milk
as long as we were still nursing.

We were honored to share our extra milk with other babies whose lives
depended on it. Knowing one was my friend’s miracle baby made our donation
even more poignant. I can’t wait to send out my next box of “liquid gold.”