I just spent the last few minutes reading over my past posts. How life has changed. Nothing can prepare you for life with an infant. The past seven weeks have flown by, though sometimes just making it through the day can take an eternity. There have been moments of chaos. There have been moments of calm serenity. It's taken me longer to get back into this blogging thing than I imagined. Then again, nothing has really been as I expected.
So here's what I have in store for you, whoever is out there reading this. Expect complete condor. I do mean complete. It seems Brian and I have entered into some sort of secret society. How many times have both of us wondered, "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" I am Toto, pulling the curtain back to show the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me, God (to whom many parents, believers and non-believers alike, have prayed at three a.m.). Some of the things I'm sure I'll discuss include poop, puke, pacifiers, soul-crushing love, and breastfeeding.
I'm feeling pretty froggy after three cups of coffee, so let's start with breastfeeding. Go big or go home, right? Breastfeeding Nazi's can post all the hate mail you want. I care not. Because I hated it and life is so much better now that we're not doing it. I tried to like it. Every day for the last two weeks, from about eleven a.m. until six or seven in the evening, she ate every hour for forty five minutes. Have you done the math on that? It leaves an hour and a half TOTAL for me to get things done around the house. I began to fantasize about life with a formula-fed baby. The freedom to go out in public without worrying where I could "whip it out" inconspicuously. The time to cook a real dinner! And oooooooohhh how lovely it would be to take a shower with time to shave my legs.
Fantasy became reality two days ago at six in the morning, when Virginia was screaming for her third meal since four. I will pump (which takes about ten minutes) and feed her a bottle (another ten minutes). Angels descended onto earth from the heavens heralding songs of joy and peace. It is one of my best decisions: marrying Brian, having Virginia, giving up the boob. The order of precedence sometimes varies depending on the moods of those two people.
What strikes me as odd is the way the world seems to plot against women who choose to (horror!) forgo breastfeeding. I wasn't sure I wanted to even try it. It's a very strange thought to me. I imagined feeling like a cow. And I did. If I hear, "Breast is best!" one more time, I might have to climb the tower with a gun. I digress. How did this become such a hot topic? It's so prevalent, so pervasive, that even admitting I was unsure about it made me feel guilty. Notice how I spent two paragraphs explaining why I chose to stop? Why does everyone feel the need to push the boob on new mothers? Here's what "they" don't tell you:
1-It hurts. "Proper latch shouldn't hurt," according to every book written on the subject. Well, suck on your finger for forty five minutes twelve times a day and tell me it doesn't get a little raw.
2- It's time-consuming. I've already covered this, but felt the need to repeat.
3- No one can step in and give you a break. Wanna shower? Not if baby is hungry. Want to get sleep? Not if baby is hungry. Want to have a nice, leisurely dinner out? Only if you're comfortable whipping the girls out in public.
4-Formula manufacturers are in on the conspiracy. Written on the side of my Similac jar? "Breast milk is recommended." Good grief.
More power to all those who stick with it. I gave it my best shot. I don't feel guilty. You can't MAKE me feel guilty. Because now I have time to enjoy my daughter. Enjoy her I do. She is amazing. I'm sure some one, somewhere, has a grasp on language powerful enough to describe this love. I do not. She is my world.
2 comments:
Your finding your way I knew you would. In the end whats BEST is what makes your house run in a way that you feel is smooth, peaceful, healthy, and happy.
I did breast feed both my boys, however I agree with your reasons to stop. I will always tell you the truth if you wanna know :)
In response to your reasons:
1. IT DOES HURT, at first. I don't care what any book says, remember the gash I had from Jacob. Holy Hell!! It gets better but is definitely not an exciting pleasurable feeling :)
2. It is time consuming. IT takes forever at least for the first few months, and your life revolves around when they eat. Again it does get better with time, especially when they get interested in more than eating and sleeping.
3. It can feel lonely as no one can help much unless you pump. Or the other option is Brian begins lactating (gross).
4. Society does make you feel like crap if you don't do it. But you gotta do what's bestest for you and her.
Enjoy her, she is beautiful. Your a good mama and doing a good job. Can't wait to meet her :)
LOVE your post. Being someone who didn't breastfeed at all (either kid) and got the death stares and the "your totally killing your kid" and "breast is best" all the time from strangers and friends alike. Though I found by the second kid I didn't get that so much anymore. I give your props for trying! Go girl. But in the end you are right. If there is one thing I've learned it's to not go by what others tell you is best. Do what works best for you and your family. Because as every specialist/book/news show/talk show etc. has reiterated: take care of yourself first than everything will fall into place. Basically if momma ain't happy, nobody is.
Glad things worked out and you all are happy and healthy and bonding. Isn't it a wonderful thing being a mom? (even if it is the hardest thing too)
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