There are three things I highly underestimated in the parenting gig.
Numero uno: I had no clue what an undertaking breastfeeding would be.
Numero dos: I didn’t know that staying home means you’re pretty much on an island 80% of the time.
Numero tres: I would never have believed that I would obsess over sleep {his, not mine} so much.
I will address numbers 2 and 3 in later posts but today, I want to get my feelings on number one off my chest. Prior to having Barrett, I did very little reading up on parenting {unless it was a humorous book about motherhood} but there were two things I had my mind made up about… I did not want to have a c section and I definitely wanted to breastfeed our babe. Having a mother who has always been a huge {vocal} proponent of boobing a babe and other family members who felt so strongly about the benefits of mama’s milk, I had made up my mind that for my child, breast would be best. And of course, when Barrett arrived teensy and tiny, it was the docs recommendation that if I wasn’t intending to have Barrett belly up to the boob, then I may want to change my intentions.
The arguments for breastfeeding vs. formula include the following… it’s cost-effective, it’s better for babe, it’s convenient and it’s natural.
After nearly 8 months of Barrett on the boob I can definitely defend the argument that it is cost-effective. Elecare, the formula option that we were presented upon learning that Barrett was Milk/Soy intolerant was 34 buckeroos a container and we would need about 2.5 cans a week. Compared to the cost of breastmilk {free!} this would have been quite a drain on our resources.
The better-for-babe argument is one that I obviously believe because otherwise I wouldn’t be livin’ the lactating life.
Whether or not it’s more convenient is up for grabs in my POV because the society we live in is much more comfortable with a bottle being served up in public than a boob. No one ever stares down a mother in a restaurant who is giving her babe a bottle but the amount of uneasy reactions I received when breastfeeding {under a cape} in public places made me feel like I had two heads and a furry tail. Additionally, I definitely didn’t find it convenient when I was having to do wake-ups every 2.5 hours for the first month of Barrett’s life to fatten him up … I surely would have caved had that continued on… I think at that point I did have two heads and grew a furry tail. Also of note, until month 7, Barrett required the use of a shield to satisfy his stomach and since the day he pulled it off and latched on sans shield, the stock has risen drastically on the convenience of this milkin’ method.
Lastly, the whole natural thing… I don’t believe that I would use the word natural to describe breastfeeding at first, because it is hard… and so are your boobs… and nipples… but once you go the milky way, it becomes sorta second nature.
I had no clue prior to breastfeeding that while it would feel like Barrett was growing/changing/becoming a human at an incredible speed, it would feel like the one-year goal I have for breastfeeding would seem light years away. In the first almost 8 months, I have exposed Barrett’s Breastaurant in more places than I ever imagined. My cape was a staple in the first six months… with mealtime occuring every 2 hours {from the start of the last 30 minute feeding} at first to 3 hours at month 5, I toted my cloak and shield everywhere I went. I’ve fed our little peanut in nearly every restaurant we’ve visited, sitting on toilets in public restrooms, at happy hours with friends, and even atop a mountain on family vacay. I’ve pumped mid-flight, in the middle of two friends in a rental car, in Paris and New York, New York casinos and at all hours of the day and night. Breastfeeding has been just as much a part of every excursion as Barrett has and if you would have told me 3 weeks in that I would still be boobin’ it at this juncture, I would have probably laughed {or cried}. The diet changes, the every night wake-ups and the hours spent on the couch with babe and boppy have been quite a lot! Who knew it was so much work?!
Now, this is not to say that the amount of time spent feeding any infant is not a lot… because it is… especially at first. But tell me this, when was the last time a formula feeding mama left her 7 month old for the evening only to find herself rock hard by the time the wedding reception started and then later, leaking through her dress on the car ride home…. when was the last time a formula feeding mom checked her peanut’s poops for the first 5 months and could tell exactly what mama had eaten … and of course, when was the last time a non-breastfeeder wore a hot and sexy bra that exposes her boob with the snap of a button that wasn’t for her husband?
I am not complaining here folks… I know that this mammary method is my choice and I am not trying to get a medal for doing so. I am, however, stating that I had no clue just how much of a commitment breastfeeding would be. I had no clue that I wouldn’t love it. I had no hint that I would understand why more women don’t breastfeed. And while I will certainly burn my nursing bras post-bfing and hope to never again see a nursing bra pad, I am happy to be a “lactator” {thanks, Erika} and I will do so with any subsequent children that join our Brehm brood.
You might also like
