On Breastfeeding

I have something to admit and it's pretty terrible. It's shameful and obnoxious, but it's the truth. So here it is:

I used to judge women who didn't breastfeed their babies.

This was, of course, before I actually became a mother myself. I realize there are dozens of reasons to feed a baby formula, medical or otherwise, and I didn't indiscriminately judge formula feeders across the board. I recognized that there are many very valid reasons to forgo breastfeeding in favor of formula, so it was just the women who chose formula, but who could otherwise breastfed, that I judged. I thought, so it's a little painful? Eh, toughen up. Or, it's inconvenient? Really? You're going to put your own needs ahead of what the medical community says is best for your baby? Maybe it's time to re-prioritize.

This was, as I mentioned, before I ever tried breastfeeding for myself.

I had always assumed that naturally I would breastfeed my children. Would I go the full 12 months recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics? Maybe, maybe not. But I would definitely give it a good go. Nine, ten months at least. And it would come totally naturally to me and I would love doing it. Obviously.

And then Nicholas was born. The first few days weren't so bad. He had a good latch and we both seemed to be catching on pretty well. But several days in, things changed. I discovered that breastfeeding, for me at least, felt like 12,000 burning knives stabbing my nipples. Breastfeeding, as it turned out, was more difficult and painful for me than pregnancy, labor, and delivery combined -- times ten. And, suddenly, I was battling the urge to throw in the towel and pop open that free sample of formula buried in the back of his closet on an hourly basis.

I made deals with myself daily-- just get through today. Just make it to the end of the week. And, the golden beacon in the distance, when the pain would be gone: just make it to two months. On the one had, two months seemed pretty reasonable. A drop in the bucket of my lifetime. But, the reality is that babies eat 10-12 times per day, and there was just barely enough time in between feedings for the burning, throbbing sensation in my nipples to fade. I cried. I cried often. I cried from the pain, I cried in frustration, and I cried out of dread for the next feeding looming on my schedule.

But, as the books promised, the pain did begin to fade gradually. It went from excruciating, to really painful, to pretty uncomfortable over time. And around five weeks, I noticed that while the 12,000 burning knives sensation was gone, my son would feed for hours at a time-- and scream inconsolably whenever I tried to get up off the couch and do something, anything, else. After one marathon three hour feeding session, I finally decided to go see a lactation consultant.

She was so helpful, and I'm very glad I went. She examined Nicholas, weighed him with and without a diaper, watched closely as I fed him from both sides, and then weighed him again. Her conclusion was that I simply wasn't producing enough milk. Not by a long shot. He was underweight and it was only my stubbornness diligence about breastfeeding him on demand, for hours a day, that had kept him from becoming seriously underweight. She put me on a milk-making regime, but it was time to begin supplementing with formula. And I was more than fine with that.

Months have passed and Nicholas is now a healthy, chubby-cheeked, squishy baby. He's got delicious little rolls on his thighs, and a crease all the way around both wrists where his baby fat meets his plump little hands. I am still breastfeeding him about 90% of the time, but he gets a few bottles of formula a week. The pain is long gone, and I do appreciate the fact that I can feed him without a lot of fanfare around washing and sterilizing bottles or the expense of buying can after can of formula. But I still think about weaning him. He will be six months in just over a week-- a fact which astonishes me-- and sometimes I feel like I've put in enough of the good fight. I still struggle to produce enough milk, so I'm constantly monitoring my protein and fluid intake while supplementing with a witch's brew of herbs. On days when I'm just not making enough milk, he gets fussy and we both get frustrated. He's an active little guy, and most of our feeding sessions these days entail him pummeling me with his fists and feet while he eats. He's also still waking up several times a night and usually the only thing that can lull him back to sleep is my breast. Then there are those occasions when we're out in public and it would just be so nice to pull out a pre-prepared bottle rather than wrangle his kicking and writhing body under a nursing cover. And sometimes I just wish my body was my own again. Breastfeeding my son has turned out to be far more challenging than I ever expected.

But then there are moments like this evening, during a mid-summer thunder storm, when I nursed my son to sleep in a quiet, dim room while the rain cascaded off the eaves outside his window. His body heavy and warm in my arms. His breathing quiet and peaceful as he drifted off. That rosebud mouth and those soft little arms nuzzled up against me. These are the moments I want to remember. When I realize I'm in no rush to shed the vestiges of his babyhood. When I think, I could do this a little longer. And so I will. With proper appreciation for what my body requires to sustain a growing baby, with gratefulness to science and industry for creating a nutritious alternative or supplement to a mother's milk, and with respect for all women and their choices in how to nourish their babies.

Clean Sheets

I just turned in my first big freelance writing assignment. Big, as in entire corporate website big. It's been two weeks of squeezing scanty bits of writing in around Nicholas' sub par napping habits and then cobbling together any other free time I can find to write. Late nights. Early mornings. For 17 minutes while I can distract Nicholas in his jumper. You get the gist. Everything else has fallen by the wayside.

Thanks to my postpartum hormones, the floor of my bathroom is covered in a carpet of hair so thick I could easily go into to the wig making business. If this writing thing doesn't pan out. Gross. But true.

Meanwhile there are no less than 6 loads of clean laundry scattered in piles across every flat surface in the house. I am not exaggerating. It might be 7 loads. Or 8. At least it's clean?

And I just found a whole peppercorn on the floor of my bedroom. Ponder that for a second. A peppercorn. That either says something significant about the intensity of my culinary passions... or that I just really, really need to vacuum.

But. But. I'm wearing clean pajamas and my bed awaits me, neatly made, with clean sheets. Those clean sheets make everything else a little more manageable. They assure me that order will soon be restored to my world. And that tonight, I will sleep well.

Happy 4th!

We celebrated a spontaneous, low key 4th of July today. Our original plan was to go swimming at Krause Springs in Spicewood, but we arrived around 11:30am to find that it was absolutely packed and that the only place to sit were some bare rocks in the sun. Not exactly baby friendly. So we packed up our bags and moved our picnic northwest to Marble Falls. We found a nice park along the river and camped out in the shade. Nicholas loved stretching out in the grass and watching the big kids jump off the rope swing into the water.

Later, we took a scenic drive through Horseshoe Bay. We had wanted to stop at Flat Creek Estate winery on our way home, but found out that it was closing early. Instead, we headed south to Stonewall and made a stop at our favorite winery in the area, Pedernales Cellars. We hadn't visited in about a year and a half, so it was fun to check in and enjoy a cold glass of Viognier on their deck, under the trees. They had a band playing, and Nicholas loved the live music.

Back home, we fed Nicholas bananas for the first time. Survey says... thumbs up! After we put him to bed, we fired up the grilled and enjoyed a holiday dinner of barbecued flank steak, sauteed summer vegetables, and smashed potatoes. We're hitting the sack before the fireworks go off (a sign of the times), but we enjoyed our little mid-week hill country excursion and Nicholas' first 4th of July. Hope you had a good one too!

Five Months: A Letter

Dear Nicholas,

You turned five months about a week and a half ago. Your fifth month was full of milestones. We began feeding you rice cereal over Memorial Day weekend, and your first reaction was an expressive grimace.

It took you a few days to get used to the taste and consistency, but eventually you got the hang of it and even began to enjoy it. Carrots? Not so much. In the past week or two we've added some new foods to your rotation and you are starting to enjoy different flavors a bit more.

You also started rolling this month. On June 8th, I came into your room after your morning nap and found you on your stomach for the first time. Since then, you've been a rolling machine. We can now set you down on the ground, turn our backs for a few moments, and turn back around to find you three or four feet away from where we left you.

This month you also discovered your feet and your mouth. You love grabbing your feet during diaper changes, or whenever you happen to notice them when you're lying on the floor. You reach for your toes and will work oh so hard to try to get them into your mouth. You are a pretty flexible little guy and with a little help you have no trouble tasting those toes.

This month you also discovered that you love putting anything in your mouth. When you encounter a new object, your first reaction is open your mouth into a long little oval with pursed lips and then try to put the object inside. This works well for things you can pick up yourself, but it's pretty funny when you see something a few feet away and you open your mouth in anticipation. You also love to stick out your tongue. If something pleases you, you will give us a coy smile with just a little bit of your tongue sticking out. It's pretty darn cute.

With all these new activities in your repertoire, your sleep habits have unfortunately begun to head downhill. From about 10 weeks until four months, you consistently slept about 12 hours a night with one wake up for food around 4am. Since early June (or maybe even since we got back from Oregon), you've begun waking up two, even three, times a night. Naps have continued to be a challenge, but we finally buckled down and implemented some sleep training this month. After a rough few weeks of listening to you scream for 10 minutes (or more) each time we put you down for a nap, and occasionally in the evenings, you are now getting a little more comfortable drifting off on your own in your crib. At nap times, I will read you a story and then give you a quick "snack," before putting you down in your crib. I try to keep you in that drowsy stage before putting you in your crib, but you love to pass out while eating. In the evenings, we'll give you a bath, and, depending on your level of fussiness, sometimes read you a story before I feed you. Then we put you in your crib with your giraffe noise machine (who you love to wrestle with and gnaw on), and most of the time you can now drift off on your own with maybe just a few minutes of crying.

During your fifth month, you made your first trip to Dallas for cousin Lisa's wedding. You handled the driving each way pretty well, and were a trooper about staying out late for both the rehearsal dinner and wedding. You were the hit of the party-- aside from the bride, of course! You met numerous relatives on Daddy's side of the family, including uncle Dan, great uncle Rich and aunt Kathy, cousins Lisa and Matt, and many others. Dzia Dzia and Grandmama came to stay with us for a few days before and after the wedding, and you had a great time getting spoiled with lots of attention from each of them.


You also went swimming for the first time. We took you to the Blue Hole in Wimberley on Memorial Day. The water was a little cold, but you were OK getting in up to your waist. You kept looking around with a little bit of a concerned look on your face, as in "this isn't my bath...," but overall you seemed to like it. A week later we went back with Mommy's friend, Anne, and then we took you in the hotel pool in Dallas. Daddy accidentally dunked you in the hotel pool, but you didn't let out much more than a brief whimper in response. The rest of the time you happily kicked and splashed. We think we have a little water baby on our hands.

Finally, we celebrated Daddy's first Father's Day this month. Father's Day fell on the day after cousin Lisa's wedding, so we spent most of it driving home from Dallas. Unfortunately we didn't get any pictures, but Daddy loved the sandals and cards we picked out for him, and we cooked gourmet burgers for Daddy and Dzia Dzia to celebrate.

At five months, your likes include baths, spending time outside (particularly walks in the jogger that you are now big enough to enjoy), lying on your play mat and playing with the dangling toys, bouncing in your new Sassy Seat, sitting or standing upright (with assistance), swimming, putting anything and everything in your mouth, and meeting new people-- you have never met a stranger and are thrilled with every new face you encounter, especially women. You are definitely a ladies' man. Your dislikes include going to bed (day or night), getting too hot in your carseat (I don't blame you), carrots, and being left alone for more than a few minutes.

Noticing Babar for the first time after five months of these photo shoots.

Nicholas, we are so proud to be your parents. We can already tell that you are a smart, outgoing, funny little guy. Watching you grow from a tiny newborn into an active, expressive baby has been such a joyful, amazing experience. It's becoming a cliche, but I just want time to slow down. These past five months have flown by and time just seems to keep speeding up. But, we can only keep moving forward and so onward we go! I can't wait to see what you have in store for us next month.

I love you so,

Mommy