On Breastfeeding

*It's world breastfeeding week! Thanks to a great Le Leche League, wonderful friends and family, great internet sites, and a supportive husband, breastfeeding has gone really well for us. If nursing is a sensitive subject for you, or if you don't want to read my rave review of my breastfeeding experience-don't read on :)

This post whirls around in my head for a few minutes every day. I want to use the best words, the perfect words,to describe my thoughts on one of the most amazing experiences of my lifetime. But eloquence is fleeting and if I don't catch it when it comes by me-this post will sound like a random assortment of mush.

But I'll try.

Hannah will be six months old on Sunday. And I'm damn proud that she's been exclusively breastfed for every bit of those six months.

Breastfeeding was a given. A choice that wasn't even a choice. Of course I will breastfeed my baby. That is what babies are supposed to eat.

I remember the first time I saw a woman nursing her baby. I was 22 years old. Twenty-two years of my life passed without my witnessing a woman nursing her baby at her breast. Even so, it was never a question.

I could list facts and data and studies that explain why "breast is best" but I'm sure anyone reading this already knows that stuff. It's the personal that begs to be let out of my mind. The emotional. The sacrificial. Those are the aspects that this post aims to describe.

I remember those last few weeks of pregnancy. Scared and stressed that it wouldn't work. I won't have enough milk. It will never "come in". It will hurt too badly. I had read about a dozen books on birth but had only cracked one book about nursing. I was running out of time! Must read more.

I remember my mother-in-law talking me off a ledge one night. "I breastfed three babies and I didn't know half of what you know! You know too much. Just do it."

So I just did it.

And I did it well.

Her slimy, squirmy little body flopped on my stomach and I scooper her up and held her tight to my chest. Heaven. Only a few moments passed and her little body had found its way to my breast. She knew just what to do. I let her. I even had the sense to do the "lower lip flip" and fix her very first latch. That got some "oohs" and "ahhs" from the nurses. That was the speech therapist part of me coming out.

I loved nursing from the moment she was born. I loved nursing her in my hospital bed. I loved staring at her little throat to see the change from suckle to swallow. I loved watching her poop turn to gold. I was feeding  my baby! We were doing it!

I remember making the conscious decision to put nursing before anything else immediately, thanks to the good advice of a friend. And although I wanted to play hostess when some of our friends came to visit, I forced myself to shoo them out into the hallway so I could get her latched and make sure she had a good feeding. This was all that mattered.

My face beamed with pride when the nurse did a weight check a few days after her birth and said, "and you're not supplementing?!" And the shock on her face when she looked at my nursing log and realized I had nursed her 12 times in the last 24 hours. It didn't seem like a lot to me-I just fed her when she stuck her little tongue out at me, which I guess was 12 times a day.

I really amazed myself at how "go with the flow" I was with it all. My very type A personality would normally want to schedule it, record it, analyze it endlessly. But somehow I let it all go and just fed her. And held her. And rocked her. And fed her some more.

Thank God for this, for it gave me the great supply that has sustained her for her entire, short little life.

And then the pumping. Damn pumping. Nursing a plastic tube when I should be nursing my sweet girl. But I thank God for pumping because it's allowed me to continue our breastfeeding relationship despite our separation. I've pumped in storage closets, cars, cafeteria kitchens, and Sunday school rooms. I've had not one, but two janitors barge in on me despite my calls of "shut the door!" and smiled at the guy who mows the grass outside my office, laughing on the inside because he can't tell what's going on behind that computer screen. Pumping can be my best friend and my worse enemy.

There are set backs. Of course there are. Tears at the sight of everything she just ate coming back up at me. Pain. But not for long. Oversupply and squirting and leaking that made me want to pull my hair out. Times when I really want to start scheduling her "just because she's older". Not being able to eat out due to her dairy allergy.

But I don't care. I just want to nurse her.

I am the only person on this earth who will ever see that little smile she gets in the middle of nursing that lets me know she is perfectly, perfectly content. I hope I never forget the way her sweet little body feels in my arms as she lays across my lap and drinks in my milk.

Next week we'll go in for her six month check up and they'll ask me how many times a day she nurses. I never have an answer for that. I stopped counting when she was five days old. Ten, 12, 18? I have no idea.

Breastfeeding isn't about just feeding her. I nurse her because she's tired but it's not quite bedtime and she needs help relaxing. I nurse her to help her tummy feel better from all the gas. I nurse to help her poop. I nurse her to help her fall asleep. And back to sleep. And back to sleep again. I nurse her because she missed me. I nurse her because I have no idea what is wrong and that's the only way I can think to fix it.

It wasn't always that way. She was a pacifier kid up until three months. Nursing was for food only and she got on and off as quickly as she could. I don't know what changed or how it happened. And there are times when I desperately want her to take her pacifier back. But most of the time I'm beyond willing to be that pacifier for her. I'm better than plastic. I'm mom.

Now I've lost my train of thought because, wouldn't you know it, she needed to nurse. Her tummy hurt. I made it better.

I realize that not all woman have come to love nursing as I have. There are as many reasons for that as there are women. That's ok. I'm just so glad that I did, in fact, end up falling in love with it.

We're planning to start solids this weekend. She's beyond ready and I can't hold her off any longer. And while  I joke about not wanting to do solids because of the extra hassle, I'm secretly dreading this small step of independence. I won't be her everything anymore. It'll be me and an avocado. But I'll be the one holding the spoon. :)

So I'm grateful that God designed nursing the way He did. I'm grateful for this experience. It's so powerful. So bonding. So strong. Our human nature experiences bonding through such physical means. A handshake, a hug, sex. And nursing. She was conceived with a physical bond and I nourish her with a physical bond. And  I connect to her on an indescribable level.

Does this all sound super cheesy? Eloquent? Mush? Maybe. I really do mean it though. Just my real thoughts on paper. I don't mean to romanticize nursing and make it out to be something it's not. But it really is pretty dang amazing. I haven't even skimmed the surface.

Thank you Lord, for the gift of breastfeeding.





***

I’m celebrating World Breastfeeding Week with Natural Parents Network!


You can, too — link up your breastfeeding posts from August 1-7 in the linky below, and enjoy reading, commenting on, and sharing the posts collected here and on Natural Parents Network.





(Visit NPN for the code to place on your blog.)

My View

Quick Takes (28)

-1-

Someone is sitting up! And is apparently very proud of herself!

-2-

No Sales Tax Weekend + 50% off the entire store + Credit in my consignment account + Baby who can now sit up in the dressing room while I try stuff on =

Two skirts, a shirt, and a dress for only $12! Happy Early Birthday to me!

-3-

Ted's been gone the last three days for work. I've survived the sleepless nights by myself, but I am sure happy he's on his way home. Life is just better with my hubby here.

-4-

I'm not one to post recipes online. I fall into the category of "taker" and not "giver" when it comes to information on the internet. This recipe, however, is begging to be posted!

Homemade Bruschetta

2 tomatoes (garden only!)

1 onion

2-3 small cloves of garlic

Italian Seasoning

Salt and Pepper

That's it! I brush olive oil on sourdough bread, season it with garlic salt, and bake it for a few minutes. While it's baking I cut up the tomato and throw the onion and garlic into the chopper. I add the seasoning to my taste (which means a ton), slap it on the bread, and enjoy my heavenly creation!

Isn't it great when healthy food is also easy and yummy?

-5-

As if I didn't already want one bad enough, looking at the above picture makes me really, really want a fancy camera. Then I could take cool pictures of my food like this. And capture more smiles from Hannah with a faster shutter speed. Maybe if I sell my current camera and combine all my upcoming birthday presents......

Anyone have any thoughts/suggestions on buying a really good camera?

-6-

While you're over at Laura's blog checking out her awesome picture of zucchini pancakes (You have no clue what I'm talking about? You must not have clicked on the previous link) check out her newest post on breastfeeding her daughter who is about to turn one year old. Good stuff.

Hannah will be six months old in just over a week and I'm pretty dern proud that she hasn't had anything but mama's milk in her precious little digestive system. (Not to make anyone feel bad who can't say the same of course-I can toot my own horn without judging right?)

-7-

Speaking of that precious little digestive system, Hannah is definitely allergic to dairy. I've also been so skeptical of "dairy allergies" because they're so common it almost seems like a fad. Then I had my own little one with "allergic colitis" and I now know it's definitely not a fad. So I'm completely dairy-free and have been for almost two months now.

And you know what? It's not a big deal.

This from the girl who drank 1-2 glasses of milk a day, ice cream several evenings and week, and considered Sonic the ultimate date night. But when I see how much it's helping her my motivation is sky high and I don't even mind the slight trouble.

And did you know that dairy is in everything?? Like, everything everything. Oh well. Maybe this is the kick in the pants we needed to move further away from processed foods and eat things the way they are meant to be eaten.

-8-

I need an 8th this week. In honor of NFP Awareness Week, check out two of my favorite bloggers/columnists and their take on NFP. Jen is so wise and Simcha is so funny.

I wrote my own post on NFP, too-in case you missed it!

Have a great weekend! And have a bowl of ice cream for me. Really. I won't mind. :)

Green for the Green-"Family Planning" Edition

I've been meaning to write a post about Natural Family Planning for a loooong time now. This blog can be such a source of motivation and truth if I let it. I admit, I've been too nervous to really dive into the topic.  But this week is NFP Awareness week, so I guess I should finally get to it.

Although NFP is definitely "green"-that's not at all the reason we use it. It's just an added bonus.  Anyone whose remotely aware of current birth control research knows that the pill is linked to breast cancer and so much more. Yuck. With so many risk factors for cancer being unavoidable, it boggles my mind that anyone would ingest a daily pill that puts them so at risk.

Birth control is also poisoning our environment. My hubby, the fish scientist, has read several studies indicating the harmful effects that oral contraception is having on our nation's water supply and its aquatic life. But it's not only the fish that are being affected, this study links birth control to declining fertility in men! Wonderful-so we take a pill to keep us from having children and by the time we're done with it we won't be able to have children!

It doesn't take someone with a degree in medicine or biology to know that the pill is harmful. Just spend five minutes googling-seriously-five minutes. It'll blow your mind.

The Catholic Church's teaching on NFP is so misunderstood. We've all heard the phrase "Keep God out of my bedroom!". But those people forget Who invented sex. Why would we keep the CREATOR of sex completely removed from our bedrooms? Surely God has a plan for sex and that plan is found in the beauty of the Theology of the Body.

If you're totally unaware of what NFP is, here's a great intro written by a fellow blogger.  If you want to learn even more, search for a Creighton Practitioner or a Teaching Couple.

So many have said it better than I can ever say. And I'm overwhelmed by the importance of this post, knowing it might be the first (and only) mention of NFP some people might ever come by. What if I don't say it correctly? What if I come across the wrong way? What if, what if, what if...

What if I never say it? That's the question that should really bother me.

Ted and I use NFP because we trust that God's plans for our family are better than our own.

We use it because we completely respect each other's bodies and would never, ever ask each other to hide, remove, or hinder any part of our God-given fertility.

We use it because the knowledge of a woman's cycle is POWERFUL! Don't believe me? We have NFP to thank for Hannah.

We use it because it demands love, communication, and unity-all things we strive to foster in our marriage.

We use NFP because we value life and would never risk ending the life of a tiny human through the use of contraceptives.

We use it because we obey the teachings of the Church that we have chosen to be a part of. Choosing Catholicism is choosing NFP.*

And yes, we use it because it's green. Freedom from cancer risks, environmental effects, and having to shell out money for that nasty crap are all just one big green bonus to the awesomeness of NFP.

Can it be hard at time? Absolutely. Is it worth it? Without a doubt.

*I should add that Catholic do not HAVE to practice NFP. We are obviously free to throw the charts out the window and just "see what happens". If a couple wishes to avoid a pregnancy for a just reason NFP is the only acceptable way of doing this.

Blogger Beachfest by the Numbers

4..."infertile" blogger ladies. Awaiting, Me, Lauren, and Karen

3... adorable baby girls

2... belly babies

27... collective hours traveled

3... true southerners (Texas, Florida, and Alabama natives)

1... southern impostor (Mississippi transplant) who was ridiculously excited to see the ocean!

572... times Hannah stuck her hand in the salt water and then licked off all the salt

6... Blue Angels flying over the beach

18... inches from wing tip to wing tip. Amazing!

2... screaming babies upset by the LOUD noise from the Blue Angels

1... adorable baby who just waved at the airplanes

3... evening trips to the beach

6... delicious, healthy, and dairy-free meals eaten (thanks Lauren!)

50... hours spent talking about babies

50... times I thought, "Would you believe that none of us thought we would be mothers just a short year ago?!"

16... attempts it took to get this shot with all three babes looking forward

1... gracious husband who sacrificed his space and privacy for three women he'd never met

83... pictures I took with Karen's awesome camera

83... times I coveted Karen's awesome camera and considered stealing it

1... day it took to convince Awaiting how cool cloth diapers are

2.75... consecutive hours of napping after a hard day at the beach. Her longest EVER!

 
8... pounds, 3 ounces of amazing coincidence! My friend Kelly had her baby, Luke Everette, while we just happened to be staying just minutes from her hospital! Congrats again Kelly and Brett!

1... times I had to stop for Hannah on the way down

0... times I had to stop for Hannah on the way back!

2... minutes I got out of town before I wanted to turn around and go back to the beach one more time!

What the Hell?

You say that I'm messing with your head

All 'cause I was making out with your friend

Love hurts whether it's right or wrong

I can't stop 'cause I'm having too much fun

You're on your knees

Begging, "Please

Stay with me"

But honestly

I just need to be

A little crazy

All my life I've been good,

But now...

I'm thinking, "what the hell?"

All I want is to mess around

And I don't really care about...

If you love me

If you hate me

You can't save me Baby, baby

All my life I've been good, But now...

What the hell?

[.....]

So what if I go out on a million dates?

You never call or listen to me anyway

I'd rather rage than sit around and wait all day

Don't get me wrong, I just need some time to play

[.....]

You say that I'm messing with your head

Boy, I like messing in your bed

Yeah, I am messing with your head when

I'm messing with you in bed

-What the Hell by Avril Lavigne

Yes, that is a real song. I heard it on the radio yesterday and thought, "She read my mind-I'm thinking what the hell is wrong with her???" A far cry from the innocent Skater Boy of my high school days, this song is absolute smut. I know, I know-I shouldn't be surprised. But I am surprised. I'm completely shocked. And disgusted. And sad.


How in the hell am I supposed to raise my daughter to live a life of virtue in a world that has not only thrown values out the window, but writes songs about how great it is!?


Heaven help me. St. Rose, pray for me.


And to counteract the ugliness and glorification of sin, check out this post by a gay Catholic man. So beautiful. There is hope.

Happy Father's Day

The only thing that even comes close to stirring up that feeling inside me

-that feeling down in my gut 

and tucked away within the lump in my throat 

and hidden in the corners of my smiling lips-

that staring at Her porcelain, sleeping, beautifully perfect face causes...

is staring at Him 

while He's staring at Her.

Happy (Late) Father's Day, Ted. You are , amazingly, a million times better than the wonderful father I knew you would be.