These are the Moments

I'm at a significant point in my breastfeeding adventure. I've been breastfeeding Boo for 18 months and I'm 14 weeks pregnant with #2. While I plan to continue nursing Boo for the foreseeable future, I do know that anything can happen at this point, so I'm doing my best to savor our nursing moments today as well as memories we've made over the past year and a half. There have been some doozies!

Dumb and Dumber Moment

Photo credit

I'm almost too embarrassed to include this in the list. In the early days I struggled with over-supply. My breasts were engorged, hard lumps began forming, and I developed mastitis. I applied warm compresses (warm water poured into newborn diapers worked amazingly well!) and massage. I also pumped a bit to relieve pressure before Boo nursed so the poor thing wouldn't sputter and choke on the fast letdown. After each nursing session I took that pumped milk...and poured it down the drain. I know, I know. If I could go back in time I would smack my sleep-deprived, bleary-eyed face. The thing is, I had pumped colostrum at the hospital that I wasn't using and had to toss. What was I supposed to do with all this breast milk anyway?

Fortunately I had sweet friends who quickly informed me what an idiot was. I made a run to Babies R Us and picked up some freezer bags for my milk. I never made the same mistake again.

Apocalyptic Moment

In the early days I don't think there was a single 90 minute nursing session that went by where I didn't feel like my nipples were being sawed off, cauterized, then stuck back on with Krazy Glue. Yet there's one moment that sticks out. It was probably about 8 am, though I had lost all sense of time with the 24/7 nursing thing I had going on. I was sitting in my glider with my sweet newborn bracing myself for another painful latch. Teeth gritted, tears streaming down my face, I brought her to my breast. And I howled in agony, unknowingly in solidarity with other moms. Somehow I freed one hand (how that happened God only knows) to grab my phone and called my mommy. "Hey mom." Trying to play it cool. "What are you...sniff...up to?" The wobble in my voice betrayed me. All it took was a "Honey, are you okay?" and I was reduced to a blubbery, wailing, pitiful mess.

Fortunately I have an awesome mom who came right over with a hot breakfast and some grandma love so I could crawl into bed slathered with nipple butter. Ahhhhhhhhhh....

Merida Moment

My first time nursing in public was at a Panera down the street. I busted out the cover, peeked through the constantly collapsing top to try and get baby in position, and began to nurse like a champ. It didn't feel remarkable though. The place was buzzing with middle and high school students just out of school. The chaotic din made me feel inconspicuous so it didn't feel like a breakthrough moment. One that did, though, was the day I figured out how to nurse while I was wearing Boo at the grocery store. I felt brave and invincible, like, "Haha everyone in the grocery store, my boob is out and you don't even know it!" 

Victory.

All the Moments

The funny thing is that while a few of these memories stick out in my head, most of them blur into each other so that my breastfeeding journey is made up of impressions and feelings rather than distinct happenings marked on a calendar. The late nights with my sweet girl where her smell and warmth filled the silence. The nursing mannerisms she's adopted as a toddler, like standing with her bottom in the air as she chooses which side she wants this time. The way she attacks my breast with gusto that causes my family to laugh hysterically every time.


One great thing about the next baby is it's like having a do-over. Of course I know it will be different and this baby will have different needs. But I get a second chance at not being stupid and dumping out liquid gold. I get a second chance at knowing how it feels to have a tiny human nestled in my arms day and night. I get a chance to experience a new set of missteps and discomfort that will inevitably fade into success, until one day while nursing I'll think to myself, "Hm, this is so easy! When did that happen?"

Breastfeeding Heroes: Princess Srirasm of Thailand

If there's one drum we beat repeatedly on Adventures in Breastfeeding, it's about the need of all women to have support on their breastfeeding journey. It is this fact that has led so many women (and some men!) to become Lactivists, putting themselves out in the public sphere to promote breastfeeding, normalize it, and assure all the mothers out there who struggle with nursing that they are not alone. Among the many stories I've found of these remarkable characters, a recent favorite is that of a bonafide princess: Srirasm, Princess of Thailand and Royal Consort of Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn.

Princess Srirasm was a commoner who married the heir to the Thai throne in 2001, giving birth to their first (and so far only) child in 2005, Prince Dipangkorn Rasmijoti. Once recovered from the caesarian birth, Srirasm began nursing her son, and was so moved and impressed by the experience that within a few months, she launched an extensive campaign to promote breastfeeding in Thailand. The project, titled "Love and Care from Mother to Children" received the full support of the royal family, including the written endorsement of Srirasm's husband, the Crown Prince.

Source: Breastfeeding Situation in Thailand

While much of the available data on breastfeeding rates may be inconsistent or unreliable, most sources show Thailand in the 20th Century having the lowest rate of exclusive breastfeeding [for the first six months] in Asia, and among the lowest in the world. Estimates as recent as 1998 had the number hovering just above 2%. Studies blame everything from poor education and diet in rural areas to the growing influence of the formula industry, and cite consequences like higher rates of disease and lower average IQ scores for children. The Ministry of Public Health has made a number of efforts since the 1980s to improve breastfeeding rates, but as of 2006, the number was still a paltry 5%.

Enter Princess Srirasm and her adorable little boy. From its inception, the Love and Care project centered around this pair, with interviews, photographs, pamphlets, and posters appearing all over the country, featuring the growing and healthy young prince and his pretty, doting mother. Srirasm was not shy about her experience, answering personal questions about her fears of not producing enough milk, discussing how her own diet could upset the prince's stomach when she ate the famously spicy Thai cuisine, and even sharing just how large a stash of pumped milk she had frozen (50 bags by 4 months)! Aside from the obvious fact that, as royalty, she had access to much better resources than most Thai mothers, she seemed incredibly and wonderfully NORMAL.

And IT WORKED. As of 2009, studies now show a rate of exclusive breastfeeding in Thailand of at least 15%, and some put that number at 30% or higher. Though the same problems of methodology and sample size continue to make it difficult to collect reliable data, there is agreement from a wide range of reputable sources that there has been a marked increase in rates of nursing, and these clearly coincide with the active phase of Princess Srirasm's program. The Ministry of Public Health is so encouraged by their success that they have pushed aggressive new policies to attempt to meet reach goals of +50% exclusive breastfeeding by 2025.

Of course, not all of us have access to a microphone with national or global reach, but I still find the princess' story inspiring. She used the resources with which she was blessed to reach out to fellow mothers, and she succeeded in making that connection and effecting a change in the culture. Given the well-documented positive health effects of breastfeeding, this could have a direct and powerful impact on the future of Thailand.

And if any of you nursing mamas have ever wanted a reason to feel like a princess, well, now you have one! Well done, Your Highness!

Nourishment for the Soul

Everyone knows all the benefits to babies and toddlers when nursing, and many people are starting to recognize benefits to mothers more often. The list is lengthy and includes everything from physical to emotional benefits. It's obvious that nursing provides nourishment to our children, helping them grow up strong and healthy. But did you consider that nursing could also be nourishment for your soul?

I recently lost my grandpa and was extremely sad during the time surrounding his unexpected passing. Nursing provided comfort to me in a way I hadn't imagined before. Taking the time to slow down and nurse my daughter allowed me an opportunity to stop and make time for things I've neglected too often lately.

I was able to find comfort in slowing down, nourishing my daughter, and letting myself reminisce. My grandpa was a good, hard-working Catholic and I wanted to honor his memory. I started praying the rosary while I would nurse Nora. I must admit...I'm normally multitasking on my phone while nursing these days. Gone are the days when I would just stare in awe at my sweet girl while she suckled milk. After 14 months of breastfeeding, I don't give it my full attention like I once did. Taking the time to slow down and redirect my focus was something I really needed.

Photo Source

I was getting to a point where constantly nursing Nora during the day would be frustrating at times. Losing my grandpa reminded me of the important things in life. We don't know how long each of us will have with our loved ones, so it is important to never take the small things for granted. I'm so fortunate to still be nursing Nora and providing the perfect nourishment for her little body. I am also fortunate that breastfeeding provides nourishment to my soul and reminds me of life's precious gifts.

Taking a break from nursies

5 Things Every New Mom Wants to Hear

My postpartum recovery was no walk in the park. Even for moms with quick physical recoveries, this time is marked by blurry eyes, hazy memories, and an uncanny feeling of déjà vu.  I was blessed by the support of my husband, friends, and family and I learned a lot about what new moms most desperately need to hear in those early days. 

1. "I'd like to bring you a meal."

Garfield is not a fan of cute baby onesies

We had many visitors who were excited to see Boo. I won't lie, my favorite visits were those that involved steaming pans of lasagna or homemade chicken noodle soup. Someone thoughtfully brought gift cards for takeout. Some friends brought adorable outfits for Boo and (I'm not proud of this) I bitterly thought to myself, I can't eat that onesie!   Other friends asked if I wanted them to bring a meal, and it put me in an uncomfortable position. I am a person who hates asking for help so of course I said, "No, don't worry about it!"  What I really wanted to say was, "Do I want a meal? Does grass grow? Is pizza delicious? DOES MY DAUGHTER POOP?!?" All new moms are weary anyway, and breastfeeding moms typically eat meals that could feed a small nation. So yes, food is good. "I'm bringing you dinner! What food do you love/hate? What's a good time?" Don't be surprised if your new mom friend falls down and kisses your feet after hearing those words.

2. "It's okay to feel that way."
The first few days/weeks/months are an emotional roller coaster.  Mom's body is on hyper-drive trying to shift from sustaining a baby inside the womb to sustaining that baby by way of her breasts.  Lots of hormones changing.  All the emotions happening.  If she is sad/happy/stabby/nervous reassure her and let her know you're there to listen.  If you think she might be suffering from postpartum depression (PPD) give her a hand in finding the help she needs.

3. "Go take a nap."
After countless visitors visiting and doctors doctoring and lots of bodily fluids uh....flowing, anyone would be beat tired.  Now add in a tiny creature who needs to be fed or changed or cuddled 24/7, and mama's exhausted.  The only reason she may want to stay up would be to chow down on the delicious meal you brought her. ;)

4. "You're doing a great job."
If your mom friend is like me, it's possible she read every word published about pregnancy and childbirth under the sun but for some reason forgot that she would need to care for and nourish this child after the little bug popped out.  For me, most days I was getting by in survival mode and after the chaos died down I realized I hadn't the faintest idea what I was doing. It was simultaneously terrifying and awe-inspiring.  I felt much more confident when another mom held off on the advice for a bit to build me up.

5. "What kind of support do you need from me right now?"
This is where it's important to acknowledge that every mom is different.  I think it's safe to assume that every new mom wants to eat and sleep, but moms have other needs that vary so much from each other.  Some moms need to complain and vent just to get out their frustration.  Others unload to a friend because they need to hear that it's okay to try something different.  If you have even a little doubt about what your friend needs from you, simply ask her.  Tell her that you care about her.  That she's a great mom.  And that you want to provide whatever support she needs, whether that's simply an ear to listen without judging, a referral to a lactation consultant, or an account of your experience and what worked for you.  I'm often guilty of automatically providing support to other moms that I know I would need in that situation, but sometimes that's the opposite of what they want.  Listen - truly listen - and let her know that you are there for her no matter what.

Dear Amanda

Photograph provided by SarahCole Photography

As we approach our one year anniversary (eh hum, Harper's birthday) of our breastfeeding journey together I can't help but reflect. Lately, I'm thinking more and more about what I would tell my pregnant self about breastfeeding. So here it is, a letter to my pregnant self from my almost one year postpartum self.


Dear Amanda,

I'd like to tell you that this is going to be easy. And I'd like to tell you that it'll always be just like the images you see of new mother's nuzzling their newborns. I'd also like to tell you won't be tired. The truth is, though, that it [breastfeeding and new motherhood] is hard. You won't always feel the warm fuzzies at the thought of nursing your sweet girl. And you most definitely will be tired.

There will be times that you will feel like you can't move forward, as if you're suspended in time. The pain from mastitis, plugged ducts, cracked nipples, nipple blebs, and engorgement will seriously push you to your limit. Your tears will sometimes stream down your cheeks, to your breasts, and down onto your little nurslings face.

There will be days that you just want your boobs to be just your boobs. You will search to find a nursing bra that fits you like your old standby VS one, and you'll be disappointed when it simply doesn't. You will find yourself defending your choices and answering questions you shouldn't have to.

You'll out-grow the nursing cover and breastfeed in places you never imagined. People will probably stare and maybe even give you dirty looks.

I know, you're probably thinking that this doesn't sound real awesome right now. The thing is, I know you and you're a realist. So I started with the tough stuff.

Harper at 11 months old

Remember when I said you won't always feel the warm fuzzies when breastfeeding your little lady? You won't, but a very large portion of the time you will. The reason you see those soft images of new mothers is because you will have moments of being completely consumed by the love and joy that fills you while nourishing your baby girl. And yes, there will be days that you feel like you haven't slept in a week, but then it happens. That time comes when your little one has a full belly and just sighs the softest, sweetest little sigh. Just those few seconds in that moment will get you thru hours, maybe even days.

The pain. Oh, the pain. You've never been great at dealing with pain. You are, however a fighter. You can and will get thru this. Laugh at yourself and celebrate each and every triumph. Once you've surpassed the pain and the back-to-back night wakings, you'll want to shout from the rooftops that you've made it. You'll want to scream that you are victorious! That is ok to feel.

Don't worry about the bra. You'll have the rest of your life to wear a "sexy" bra, but you'll only have a couple of short years to wear the one that carries your fondest memories. And they WILL end up being some of your fondest memories. Sometimes you'll glance at that bra slung over your desk chair and remember that time you both giggled from her latest gymnurstic move. Or you'll be about to throw it in the wash and have a quick recollection of her grinning up at you while having a snack.

Harper at 11 months, having a snack!

Now for the questions about your choices… Breathe. The questions will not get easier to answer, BUT you will learn to answer them with grace. Just remember to breathe first, talk second.

You will become comfortable in your own NIP skin. Be happy that you can breastfeed anywhere and not have to wait for milk to be warmed.

Finally, once you've mastered the tough stuff and settled into your own nursing rhythm she will be about to turn one. She will be signing for "nummers" (aka milk) and astounding you with her intelligence.
Before you know it you'll be wondering if this is when she starts to wean and your heart will ache for those early days. You've done well. Be proud and savior every moment.

Sincerely,
Yourself

When Life is on Mute: A Mother's Guide to Surviving Depression

I feel my face flush and my ears get warm when she asks me the question.

It was just the third day since my precious bundle had been born.  We were gathering our things to leave the hospital and my midwife came in to have me sign the discharge papers and go over postpartum care with me.

"Do you have a history of depression?"  The words leap up suddenly out of a list of mundane questions, the kind that people always say "no" to.  When I don't answer in the negative right away she looks up at me expectantly.  What's wrong with me?  I am the one who had come out on top of this beast before.  I am the one who fumes at the cultural stigma surrounding mental illness. Why am I acting embarrassed?

I'm embarrassed because my midwife has unknowingly struck a nerve where a paralyzing fear lies dormant: Am I going to be a good mother?

**********

I've journeyed through the darkness of depression before.  You know those scenes in war movies when a grenade goes off?  The soldier is shell-shocked, reeling from the blast.  The film editors pull you into his perspective, blurring the scene, camera jarring as he shakes his head to try to make the high-pitched whining cease.  Besides that noise there is silence.  He watches as the world around him seems to happen in silent slow-motion.  It continues to move forward while he staggers, feet rooted to the ground like lead weights.

This is how I felt when I was depressed.  Glennon at Momastery has another image that describes this darkness: "A black, heavy, murky fog sets in over my heart and my head. When this happens, I do not alternate between super high and super low. During these awful times I alternate between super low and super numb. The fog is so thick that even when I get still and try to find my way home to myself – I can’t."  (Momastery also discusses depression here and PPD here.)

I walked through this tunnel feebly clinging to my faith.  Thanks to some counseling at church, patient support from my husband, and lots of prayer from family and friends, I emerged victorious.  Not victorious like I did a fist-pump in the air as the sun shone down on me, but victorious like I washed up from a shipwreck sputtering and gasping for breath, kissing the ground and thanking God I survived.

Fast-forward to my pregnancy, one of the most joyous seasons of my life, except when doubt crept in.  I worried that I was predisposed to postpartum depression.  Tiny little thoughts would gnaw at me.  Horrible, terrible, awful thoughts.  What if that darkness swallows you up while you're a mom?  What if you can't breastfeed because of this?  What if you hurt yourself and can't take care of your baby? 
                What if you are a terrible mother?

What if you are too numb to love her?

I was tempted to give in to this despair and huddle in a corner and weep.  And hear me now: if you have to do this sometimes, that's okay.  But I knew there was a lot at stake.  So I formed a plan of attack.  This plan has helped me, and may not work for you.  But if you are in a fog yourself, you may want to give one of these things a try.

Tell someone.  I was open with my husband about my worries that I would experience postpartum depression.  I promised him that after baby came, I would tell him how I was feeling instead of shrinking inside myself.  He told me he would check on me frequently and help me find words when they were difficult to say.  Planning ahead of time to talk with each other was important because depression makes me want to cower and hide from the world.  It is a battle.

Give yourself permission to feel everything, except silly.  Don't be afraid of feeling silly for being dramatic and calling this funk "depression."  When I was depressed I felt embarrassed and ashamed, like maybe I was being melodramatic or trying to get attention.  When my husband would check on me it felt awkward to say the word "depression."  It's okay to feel depressed.  It's okay to call it that.

Help yourself.  Moms are notorious for putting themselves last.  Before I had a baby I wasn't much different.  But depressed me was in survival mode, napping when I needed to and asking my husband to boot me off the couch when I needed to get outside.  My faith is my foundation so prayer was important.  I found that drawing, journaling, listening to meaningful songs- those things helped me cope, even though the fog didn't recede altogether.  I went to a counselor for several months and it worked wonders.  Do what you need to do to survive.

Talk to your care provider.  Don't automatically exclude medication because you are breastfeeding.  Talk to a doctor, midwife, or IBCLC about how you can navigate postpartum depression while you are breastfeeding your baby.  They can help you think outside the box about how to care for yourself while making sure baby is safe and healthy. 

As I worried during my pregnancy, I also prayed and remained diligent in forming my plan.  I knew if that murky fog settled in after my precious baby arrived, it wouldn't be easy, but I would be on the offensive.  Depression is an ugly thing, but surviving it is a beautiful thing.

**********

The hospital room seems to shrink and the words linger loudly in the air. Do I have a history of depression?  My arms are warm as I cradle my sweet baby who is depending on me to nurture her.  I will myself to be brave and look my midwife in the eye.  I remember that I am stronger than that darkness.  "Yes," I say out loud, and I finish my thought in my head: but I am ready.

WW: Just Because

These are my favorite kind of nursings! Ours our usually followed by a great cuddle.

Wordless Wednesday: Breastfeeding Mothers Deserve Support