We are smack dab in the middle of World Breastfeeding Week. I only know this because a fellow mommy blogger friend (Little Kids, Big City) wrote about it this morning. You can read her words here. I liked learning about her experiences. It reminded me of some of my own nursing days and made me feel all warm and cozy. Sigh.
I loved breastfeeding, which was kind of shocking to me as I was one of the least maternal moms I know. Seriously. I was bargaining with Mr. Mary Tyler Mom on my thirty-fifth birthday for a few more months before trying to make our first baby. I am what you call a late bloomer. When my second arrived we were living in Cancerville, in that God-forsaken subdivision known as Relapse Valley, and I somehow managed to breastfeed Mary Tyler Son, too, until my milk ran out just days after Donna died. He was almost ten months old at the time, so I was okay with that.
Obsessing about breastfeeding was a luxury/burden I simply did not have: with my first I was too sad, grieving my Mom who had just died. With my second, I was too terrified, just trying to make it through my days. I also grew up Catholic, so you knows I have some issues about exposing my breasts. My point is that for me, it wasn’t a political thing, my breastfeeding. It was a sweet, amazing, tender transaction between me and my kids. It was an opportunity and privilege to show my kids I love them in the most personal, intimate kind of way.
Not all moms have that opportunity. Some moms adopt their kids. Some moms have medical issues. Some moms try and try and try and try until blood pours from their nipples instead of milk. Some moms are so depressed they can’t get out of bed, let alone nurse their baby. Some moms are with men that don’t want them to breastfeed. Some moms return to work just weeks after their babies are born and work in places that don’t take kindly to several times a day pumping breaks. Some moms are ready, willing and able, but baby has different ideas and never takes to it. Some moms just don’t want to.
Is breastfeeding scientifically proven to be the best nutrition for an infant? Yep, without question. But you know what? Things don’t always work out for the best. We can plan and try and struggle, but not all of us are able to breastfeed. We can judge and pontificate and feel superior, but that’s not very nice. The thing is, when a new mom pulls out a bottle and formula to feed her baby, people notice. Eyebrows are raised. Just like when a new mom pulls out her breast to feed her baby. People notice, different eyebrows are raised. It sucks. No matter what a new mom does, what choice she makes or what option is thrust upon her, she is judged.
So, today, Wednesday of World Breastfeeding Week, I want to hand it to the gals who feed their babes from their breasts. Lordy, that’s a commitment and it’s amazing. But I also want to hand it to the gals who can’t or don’t breastfeed. Here’s to you, too. We are all trying, none of us get it right, but we keep trying.
One Reply to “Got Milk?”
I breastfed my daughter until she was almost two. One of my favourite parts was it made middle of the night feeding so easy – I coslept so it was just a matter of waking up enough to get her latched on and then I could fall back asleep. If I’m blessed with a second child, I hope to extended nurse again (breastfeeding has been statistically proven to reduce both the breastfeeding mom’s risk of breast cancer AND her breastfed daughter’s – and that’s the big C in my family tree).