I read once that the
number one reason for being disappointed with anything in life is not because
of the lack of quality of an experience in itself, but almost always because we
tend to set unrealistic expectations. By limiting expectations and comparisons,
life naturally happens and is appreciated for what it is.
Oh man, this has helped me in so many areas of my life, but was especially true when it came to feeding my babies. So there is this giant movement of
"Breast is Best"; in my line of work, I'm completely submerged in it. And although it's true that breast milk is amazing
and there will never be anything quite as complete, it's not for everyone for a
multitude of reasons, moms and babies alike. It’s supposed to be easy, and for some people it is, but
life is complicated. My favorite mantra is "Fed is Best", because
let's face it, there's already plenty of reasons a parent can feel like they're
failing, but being able to provide nutrition for their brand new mini to thrive shouldn't
be one of them.
I mourned a little bit
when breastfeeding didn't work out for Dillon and I. Let's be real, when those hormone levels are flourishing and intimate decisions need to be made quickly, emotional stakes are high. But then I held my head up and pumped every cubic centimeter of milk I
could until it practically turned into powder 8.5 months later. Leading up to
Mabel's delivery I tried to mentally prepare myself for a similar scenario. I
decided no matter what happened, I was not going to be disappointed with how I
fed my darling daughter.
As it turns out, Mabel
was the most patient yet determined little breast-feeder I have ever met. She
ate and slept so good I actually had to set an alarm clock to wake her up to
eat every 3 hours, which takes a ton a self-control to keep up! Patrick had it
super easy (I.M.O.) and slept all night while this was going on, so I was sure to make
it a wee bit harder on him by turning on the light with every session (he always says I’m mean…..maybe he’s right).
Knowing much more about my body this go around, it was easier to fall into an
effective routine (and SNS is a fantastic tool if you can figure out how to use it), but let’s be clear: there was nothing EASY about waking up
every 3 hours to breast-feed AND pump for who knows how many days in a row (nature blurs all those lines for a reason), but Mabel totally loved it, which totally made it worth all the effort. She practically lived to latch. If she could be latched 23 hours a day, she would would have been, and I was completely okay with that, because I knew one day I would miss it. I'll never forget that one day after Dillon watched Mabel breastfeed so many times, he decided to try it out for himself to see what all the fuss was about and got dangerously close before I figured out what was happening and redirected him!! Ahhhh, the gift of imitation.
Mabel co-slept with us
until she 5 months old (I loved every second of it), and remained an avid
breast-feeder (with supplementation) until 11.5 months old, when a nasty stomach bug robbed us of any
remaining time we had left. My goal was
12 months and it drove me crazy that we didn’t make it! A great deal of determination and support is needed to sustain a milk supply and I am thankful for every single person who helped us be successful. I cherished every moment, took way too many pictures (that she will probably never want to see or even know about), and cried several tears when I knew that particular section of our lives was over.
Why I loved it so:
1.
Convenience. I had warm milk ready
and available to feed my baby anytime, anywhere. We nicknamed Mabel "Goldy Locks" for
a while (definitely not because of her
hair), because if she did take a
bottle, it had to be the PERFECT bottle (that took a few painful weeks to figure out) and the PERFECT temperature (since she was so spoiled to her
milk always being just right). And when I say “anywhere”, I mean she literally
wanted to eat everywhere we went……. probably because it was one of her favorite
things combined with the bonus of shutting out the world for a little bit, just to be with me.
2.
Instant comfort. Any time Mabel was
upset or cranky or tired or overwhelmed, a boob was the magic solution. It
really was enchanting for both of us. I bought about 6 different styles of pacifiers and she would never take to any of them, so comfort nursing was a big deal for us. When she was tiny and going through the
witching hour?? Breastfeeding for the win! That time we spent the entire day in
the ER under florescent lighting with constant interruptions for Dillon’s transient synovitis episode???? Breastfeeding for the win!
3.
Sleep. In the mornings when
she woke up to eat, I would pull her into bed with me for "breakfast" and she’d always let me
sleep until at least 11 am. Breast-feeding was also the way I put her to sleep
every nap time (we took lots of naps
together as well) and every bedtime (a great excuse to get to put the baby to bed every single night.....Patrick was so jealous). Sure, I had to stay up late to pump
and wake up early before work for more pumping, but such is life.
4.
Bonding. How can I explain this
part in a way to serve it justice? We went through so many stages together.
Some were the sweetest times of authentic tenderness, like how she always
melted into my arms and curled up around me like we were two interlocked puzzle pieces.
Every occasion we were connected in this way radiated contentedness. Some
moments were more playful, like her amused attempts at molding my face as if it
was made of modeling clay or efforts at sticking her fingers in my mouth, then
my nose, then forcing them back to my mouth and giggling about it (I think she has my sense of humor). Sometimes
she would accidentally burp or make a funny slurping sound which would set us
off into a laughing fit. The more I laughed, the more she laughed and then we
would be laughing so hard, all prospects of eating were postponed for a while. She
has spent many an hour perfecting her fine motor skills by isolating only 2-3
strands of my hair and running her fingers through it from end to end. Some stages
were a little less sweet, like the biting and the pinching, but luckily we were able to find a way around those!
5. Confidence. My boobs were rockin' and not stoppin', if you know what I mean (but sometimes there were so rockin' that they were literally rock hard, and that wasn't as cool)! It's not that bigger boobs are the only quality that exert confidence, but the post baby body didn't exactly make me feel as comfortable in my skin as I usually do, and anything that helped was welcomed with open arms!
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