Baby and I have reached a milestone that I always knew was nearing, as with any milestone I guess, but this milestone seemed to be both relieving and saddening at the same time. It's the first milestone that I haven't felt excitement about, perhaps because it's a true testament to just how independent my little guy has become. I think also I feel disheartened by this milestone because breastfeeding was something that only mommy could provide. It was our special time and experience together. As I look back on my breastfeeding experience I have memories that stretch from one end of the spectrum to the other. Breastfeeding definitely has it's perks (i.e. boobs that would give any centerfold a run for her money), but definitely does not come without it's own frustrations.
Let me just say that prior to actually having my son, breastfeeding seemed like such a foreign concept to me and just one that I never saw myself really grasping. I must admit that prior to my own research I had this unfair, polarized impression of breastfeeding mothers partly because I had seen so much black and white thinking about the topic through social media outlets (i.e. Facebook "friends" I have mentioned in a previous post) and I had this notion that you had to be vegan, eat hummus at every meal, like Dave Matthews Band (I do like their music, but we all know the types those concerts attract. They're not bikers and headbangers, okay?), do yoga, wear bandanas and over-sized earrings, have a compost pile, and wear too many bangle bracelets to be the "perfect" breastfeeding mother. Very granola. Obviously, that's my own unfair assessment and could not be further from the truth. As it turns out, I got the hang of breastfeeding and once I (and my poor nips) got through the first week or two, it was a breeze and, for the most part, an enjoyable experience.
There were definitely times when I was ready to give up on the whole ordeal, but now I am so glad I stuck with it. The growth spurts were terrible, the night feedings were exhausting, the breast pads were annoying, and the engorgement could be disruptive (i.e. I could not enjoy a date night with my husband for more than a few hours without worrying about how soon I was going to get to pump due to pain.) My son's first growth spurt I felt like I was just a cow in a milk plant. He was eating nonstop and at times I wondered to myself What's the point of even wearing a shirt?, but we got through the first few spurts and when solid foods began to be added I started to feel less anxiety about whether I was actually providing my son with enough food. That is something I constantly was concerned about. Is he getting enough? This may have been because my son has always weighed in on the lower end of the scale, but the doctor was never concerned and after I rationalized with myself that neither me or my husband were portly or gargantuan I began to calm down about this...slightly.
And if I'm being totally honest, there were some selfish annoyances as well. One being that part of my son's original bedtime ritual was falling asleep while I breastfed which meant that I was the ONLY ONE who could put him to bed. Yes, there were a few occasions where the babysitter or grandmas were able to get him down, but it did not occur without a good crying fit and some resistance from the babe. My poor sister-in-law had a nightmarish experience when she so kindly offered to watch him one evening while we went out to a late dinner with some friends. I think she may still be scarred from this night. She curiously has gotten over her baby fever that so plagued her a few months after she and my brother got married. Hm.
Second, was the regular calculation of when I could have a glass of wine or drink a beer before I would have to be ready to breastfeed again. I am not the drinkiest of drinkers, but do enjoy a good beverage now and again. Also that meant on the rare night when I found myself desiring just one more glass of wine after a particularly grueling day or at a social gathering I couldn't. Now there are some people out there who know the exact calculations of how many drinks you can have for every so many hours and at one point I did know these, but found it to be not worth my troubles. I had other things to worry about and worrying whether I may be sharing some of my happy hour with Baby was not something I cared to waste my time over. On the upside my lack of drinking for the past two years has made me a really cheap drinking partner. Ha ha! Now there's a way to trim the budget! I kid, I kid...sort of.
Third, taking time out to pump due to engorgement could be very disruptive. When my son was 8 months old we left him for the first time with my mom for a weekend trip to attend some friends' wedding out of state. Our daily tourist plans were often disrupted by my need to return to the hotel and pump. Thankfully it was not too out of the way, but still an annoyance. I did not feel as free as I would have otherwise.
Finally, being a mother who solely breastfed for the few months I had to plan, plan, plan. I planned time in my day to pump while at work. This was often in the backseat of my own car hoping no one would walk by too closely in the middle of the parking lot, because at the time I was doing home based services and did not work out of an office. On outings with the baby I had to be aware of where private locations may be for him to feed (I was not brave enough to whip it out in public-- mostly due to modesty). I was also picky about these locations as feeding in the public bathroom stall seemed disgusting to me and very unsanitary. Gross! Very often I would make trips out to the car and feed him while sitting in the backseat. It was inconvenient, but it felt safer and cleaner and I could relax more thus allowing for more milk to be released.
Now let's talk about some perks of breastfeeding.
First, as I mentioned earlier, it is the ultimate Mommy and Me time. No one else can provide this experience for your child and there is nothing like knowing you are meeting your baby's needs with your own body (Ok, that totally sounded hippy/treehugger-like, but it is true. Maybe this is why I have the unfair, preconceived notion of the values of a breastfeeding mother?). Also, nothing hushes a screaming, inconsolable baby like a boob. Way too convenient! Only mom's can do that.
Milk boobs give fake boobs a run for their money. They're large and in charge and a sight to behold! I have never had more amazing boobs. Seriously. I was proud of those suckers (no pun intended)! When your milk comes in, your boobs look like a million bucks! I admit I was all too proud to show those beautiful things off to my husband the morning I woke up and BOOM!--my milk had arrived! I even think he was slightly intimated by them, but I think this was mostly because he was afraid they would go off at any second. Chuckle. Sadly they are no more--Now just deflated and used. Sigh.
And I cannot overlook the budget perks of breastfeeding. When we started buying formula to supplement a few months ago, I definitely noticed an impact on our budget. Thankfully I found that Target makes an Up and Up brand formula to compare to a number of name brand formulas (i.e. Similac, Enfagrow, and Gerber). They even have the specialized formulas for sensitive tummies too. Prior to having my son I vowed to never give him off-brand formula because "He deserved the best!" however, I quickly realized the best was also overpriced and our budget could use a little help after I transitioned to part-time. I studiously compared nutrient labels and contents of the Up and Up brand to our formula of choice and it was clear that I was getting almost the EXACT same thing in a larger quantity for less of the price even WITH the zillions of coupons that the name brands send you in the mail.
There are so many other perks of breastfeeding that I just don't have time to identify right at this moment as baby is starting to wake from his nap. Perhaps I'll add them later to this post or maybe just create a second post altogether when I'm feeling particularly nostalgic as this one has gotten really long.
Today, my son is approaching his first birthday in just a couple of weeks and we now only do morning and night feedings if you could even call them that--more like snacks as I am not producing enough to meet his need. These feedings are now combined with a bottle. My pump is tucked away in the cabinet and has not been used in over a month. I no longer have to wear pads in my bra (YES!), and my bras are just a little more spacious (DANG!). My son occasionally tries to lift my shirt for milk during the day which I find kind of funny, a little concerning at times, and if in mixed company, embarrassing. I write it off as a testament to just how insightful he has become--putting his world together and learning how to get things he wants. My son has yet to be sick, which I attribute in part to breastfeeding (another perk!). I'm looking forward to his next year of life, but I'm sure going to miss this very important and prominent part of our first year together. He's getting so big and it's times like these that I'm very aware of just how independent he is becoming.
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