Breast is Best Unless....

I am still breastfeeding my 15 month old baby. Most people have stopped by now, and I am definitely starting to feel pressure, said or unsaid, from society that Isaac is shortly going to be past the age that it's acceptable to breastfeed.

He now has teeth! And can communicate a little. He can tell me when he wants it, (usually by pulling at my top, or something similar). He can walk. So surely, he doesn't need his Mummies milk anymore?

The often mis-quoted statement from the World Health Organisation is that wherever possible babies should be breastfed until they are 6 months. It annoys me when formula companies use this to suggest that after that, a bottle is better, or at least as good; and the implication is that breastfeeding after this point is unnecessary.What the WHO actually says is

"Exclusive breastfeeding is recommended up to 6 months of age, with continued breastfeeding along with appropriate complementary foods up to two years of age or beyond."

(http://www.who.int/topics/breastfeeding/en/)

 

For me, this is just one of the many restrictions and social boundaries put to breastfeeding mothers. Breastfeeding a baby is ok, but after that it's all a bit icky. And breastfeeding is fine if people want to do that in their homes, in the toilet, or covered up with a blanket or other appropriate garment, but really, do you have to get your boobs out in public?? We forget that breasts are just another part of the human body, as natural and normal as a hand or an arm; and that babies and children especially see them like this. Most people think nothing of giving a toddler a glass of cows milk, and in fact see it as an essential part to their diet, but many would think it wrong for them to get healthier milk, better suited to their digestive system and nutritional needs straight from their mother.

 

The advantages of breastfeeding are too many to list here, the arguments have been said and are not my point. It frustrates me that formula feeding has become the norm to the point that so many unsaid restrictions are put on mothers who choose to breastfeed. Less and less women are breastfeeding for shorter and shorter times. It has become unacceptable to say that breastfeeding is truly better for your child, not just in thier infancy, but later in life too; with less obesity, less diabeties, and higher IQs waiting for breastfed babies.

 

The damage is real and lasting. And if you restrict a woman from breastfeeding openly in public, you restrict the next generation from learning about it. You restrict them from seeing it, from accepting it as an option for their children, from seeing it as normal and healthy and good, and you narrow their choices. The number of women who grow up seeing breastfeeding and feeling confident in their bodies and in breastfeeding reduces, and so do the breastfeeding rates, while the health of our children, and the next generation, decreases.

 

In "The Politics of Breastfeeding" Gabrielle Palmer makes the point that although there is much talk of how low breastfeeding rates are, the really incredible thing is that so many women do choose to breastfeed despite being in such an innappropriate environment. She was talking about hospitals and the unfamiliar environment, surrounded by strangers when most women's breastfeeding journey starts, but I think it applies to the whole of society. It is amazing that so many women do breastfeed for any length of time, given all the challenges they face, from pressure from formula companies (which can be subtle and incredibly effective) to pressure from partners and society, from simply just the normalisation of bottle feeding.

 

When are we going to stop underming breastfeeding by focussing on the details that are completely unimportant, and start truly supporting it and upholding it.



Enough

“Their position was perhaps the happiest of all positions in the social scale, being above the line at which neediness ends, and below the line at which the convenances begin to cramp natural feeling, and the stress of threadbare modishness makes too little of enough.” 

Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D'Urbervilles

I've been thinking about that quote a lot; and I believe with all my heart it applies to me. We have enough, not too much, so that it gets in the way of living life and appreciating what you have, and not too little that we truly want for anything. I feel truly blessed beyond measure, and I know that we are well provided for. We have a safe, warm home, we have each other, we never have to go without anything we really need and, to be honest, we have a lot of stuff that we don't. While I'm not perfect, and our lives aren't perfect and so there are always things you want to change or do differently; we certainly have enough and I can't express how grateful I am for our wee family.

There's always a but though, right?

Well, there is and there isn't. I meant every single word of what I just said, and I believe it with all of my heart. I know how lucky I am to have not just our worldly comforts, but a wonderful, supportive husband who is my best friend and the actual best baby boy in the world (although, it's probably more accurate to say he's a toddler now! How did that happen?!?). In my heart of hearts, and despite myself though, I would really like another. I want a brother or sister for Isaac to play with and to grow up with. It's only been in the last couple of months that I've come around to the idea of another, after 9 months of being sick and feeling sick followed by about 6 months of not being able to walk properly, plus all the normal sleep deprivation and exhaustion and at times complete despair that comes from having a newborn baby, you'd think that one would be more than enough! Maybe if Ben was open to the idea of another child then I would be more apprehensive, maybe then it would become a real possibility and I'd actually have to think about the practicalities. If I'm nearly as incapacitated by a second pregnancy as I was with the first I have no idea how I would manage to look after a toddler too. And then there's the financial considerations. And space, and time, and everything else. But Ben doesn't want another. And people say maybe that will change, and maybe it will but it's not something I can rest my hopes on.

So I feel very conflicted. Because it's a kind of grief to give up the desire and love and hope that you feel for the possibility of another baby. And sometimes its a sadness that weighs heavy on my heart. But on the other hand, I have more joy, more love, more happiness than some people get in a lifetime. How can I possibly complain?

Doubt

Self doubt is my biggest enemy. Its nagging questions plague my brain and undermine my confidence. If it was a problem before I was a Mum its all the more exhausting now. The biggest issue is the inconsistency it leads to - all these voices running round in my head, telling me what I'm doing will never work, a hundred voices from a hundred different opinions assaulting me.

When I think about it, my heart breaks for Isaac. How can he ever learn to be secure, confident, to behave well and to know what that is if his Mum is constantly changing boundaries and consequences? With all my heart I want to do right by him, want to give him a secure and happy childhood, to set him up well for the rest of his life. To slowly teach him what it is to be independent, secure, confident, happy. I want him to love life and be sure of his place in it and I know that starts right here; with him knowing his place in our home, knowing boundaries and rules, and knowing how to have fun, to live, laugh and love within them. My inconsistency is failing him already.

Its causing huge issues with bedtime battles. I had thought I was being consistent, but I'm not. He has a regular bedtime routine and everything, but we're trying to wean him off needing rocked to sleep. Last week we started a new tactic, and for a couple of days it was working. The couple of days I wasn't feeling well and Ben did it all. Since I've started doing my share, its gotten worse. And I know in my heart its because I'm not consistent. We have agreed a plan. But I question, I wonder, the HV's suggestions nag my brain, other Mum's stories and tips run round and round. I try to skip 2 steps ahead, it doesn't work, I get frustrated, we go backwards. 2 hours later he's still not sleeping.

If there is any reason for me to stop, to harden my heart, to steel my resolve, to learn to trust myself to stick to the plan it is for my baby boy. Tonight I took the first baby step towards that, decided to trust myself and our plan, to stick to it and follow it through. And I will keep taking those baby steps, all in the same direction for my son, for my husband, and for me. God help me.
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For as long as there are parents and children debates will rage about the "right" way to go about family life. Arguments about parenting are some of the most ferocious I've ever witnessed; more so than those about politics and religion combined. From breastfeeding to co-sleeping; attachment parenting and baby wearing, routines, weaning, sleep training, the minefield is endless.

It always amazes me the strength of feeling, and if I'm honest, the volume of stupidity. Perhaps its just that those with the strongest feelings are often those with the most extreme views based on the least evidence, and that those same people tend to shout the loudest and drown out or inflame those who are usually well reasoned, intelligent and secure. It makes me wonder if people ever stop to question what they hear or read on the internet but I suppose its more a case that you look for evidence to back up your beliefs. I know I do.

The one that me and Ben struggle with most is the argument about how to cope with a baby who doesn't sleep well. It doesn't help that we sit on opposite sides of the fence. We've often found ourselves bombarded with strict instructions to deal with it a certain way and advice that borders on the aggressive. Its hard to be on the receiving end but its even more heartbreaking to watch it from the other side. What I don't understand is why we don't talk to and treat each other as if we all have a functioning brain. Parents instincts and understanding of their own children is so undervalued, but so completely essential and more important than words can express. I believe that with all of my heart. Its sad to see parents undermining each other and dishing out well meaning advice in place of support and encouragement that builds confidence and reassurance.

Most of you will know that Isaac's sleep is an ongoing issue. Its debilitating, infuriating, upsetting and demoralising. I have felt utterly helpless, sick with stress and exhaustion. This last few weeks have been particularly bad and I've often felt like we have no option but to CIO. When I think about leaving my baby to cry I feel my chest tighten and my stomache knot. I know many parents who have done it and its helped them and I support their right to choose that. But it doesn't sit right with me. I'm grateful for my wonderful husband who supports me and understands even if he doesn't agree. He has sacrificed a lot to make sure I am happy with how we cope with Isaac's sleep and I will always be thankful for that. Today, I believe, I reached a turning point. And its not the point at which I suddenly believe Isaac's sleep is going to be fixed in the next week. Its the turning point that goes from "I don't have any other option but to do what I don't want to" to being comfortable in my own skin, comfortable with my decisions as a Mother and still feeling positive that with hard work we can help our baby sleep well without needing us quite so much. Tonight was the first night of our new plan and its gone really well. He's settled better than
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Giving your all

It's so easy to forget what you love. Maybe it's the monotony of everyday life that slowly erodes who you are, what you love doing, the relationships with those you love the most. It's easier to argue with your husband than it is to make time to do something fun together. We've found it especially hard to adjust to the full time nature of being parents, but it anything can get in the way: work, church, computer games, or just the daily grind. What an awful phrase, the daily grind.

Does life really have to be like that? Why don't we make time for ourselves, for each other? Why is it easier to be annoyed at the inconvience of your kids wanting to play when your busy doing something "more important" than it is to just enjoy that they want to spend time with them. To be silly, and play, or to include them in what your doing. Surely there's a better way. Every minute is a minute we won't get back.

That sounds kinda dire, doesn't it? But that's really not how I mean it. I'm getting a bit excited! I'll be honest, I'm exhausted, I'm a bit sore, and 13 months on I'm STILL not getting enough sleep! Which definitely makes for a grumpy Laura. But even so, today is one day that I will never get back. I will never get back the three more hours I have to myself before Isaac gets back from the childminder. So, instead of spending it on computer games, or watching crap on telly (really, has daytime tv alwasy been this bad?!?) I could make the most of it. I could SLEEP! Or, I could get my uni books out and do some much needed study, get prepared for next year so I can spend less time stressing and more time enjoying my baby. Or, I could write this. I had forgotten how much I love this space to organise my thoughts, vent my latest frustration, or type excitedly about the latest thing occuping my brain. At least it gives my hubby a break from the assault on his ears caused by the latest nappy I'm trying out, or water use in Dubai, or whatever else happens to be occupying my brain.
I read a book ages ago written about the proverbs, or at least, I read the first chapter or so - I am a bit of a book slut and find it difficult to finish one before I get excited about the next one. Anyway, I'll always remember it talking about living life completely to the full. Giving everything 10 out of 10. It spoke of how many people misunderstand that as taking on lots and lots and lots of different things; but really it's about choosing to do what you can give a lot to and get a lot from; choosing what's really important and giving that 100%. I obviously didn't take this advice when it comes to my reading patterns. But the importance of making sure you take the proper time to look after yourself, your relationships, and being wise in your choice of commitments really struck a chord with me.

How can you not enjoy that cheeky face??? So, here's to today, and to taking the time to enjoy it. ;)

Flare

Sometimes you forget. Days, weeks and months go by and in the bubble that is your everyday normality you forget. Ok, so sometimes I get a bit dizzy, a bit sore. I am tired, but we'll put that down to a year of interrupted nights, being a full time student, a Mum, a wife and just generally juggling a lot of balls.

My health is better than it has been in 8 years. Its scary to think that its been 8 years since I've been "well". I am amazed at how much I'm able to do now. Just in the last year my health has rapidly improved, I couldn't have coped with a life half as busy this time last year. Most of the time I feel ok. Strong, even. So, I don't think about what other people do, how healthy they are. I don't think about what I can't do because I'm too busy doing what I can! I'm not sure any sane person would choose to go back to uni and start a family at the same time, but when my health started improving I wasn't going to waste a second. I have a wonderful life; I'm so blessed to be able to study, to have the best baby in the world ever (not biased in the slightest!!), to be married to a supportive, wonderful, caring husband and to have the health to enjoy it all.

So, days like today come as a shock. Its honestly like being slapped in the face. Days where you don't feel right at the start, dizzy, tired, achy. Unsteady on your feet. And the breakfast that normally helps doesn't touch it. The car journey makes it worse. Standing is sore and exhausting, even for short periods. You cling to the banister to climb the stairs, slowly and the effort sucks all the energy, all the life out of you. And you stand in a room full of people, and realise your the only one who feels ill with the heat and the noise, the only one struggling to stand.

So tonight I'll feel sorry for myself, have a cuddle from my husband, have a bath, get an early night. And tomorrow I'll start it all again and hope and pray it won't take as much from me as today has.
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Self Doubt

I have been agonising over what February will bring for our family for a few weeks now. I am very good at stressing myself out - I would say I would win the stressy olympics but I know one person who beats even me (and that's pretty impressive).

It's difficult to really explain how hard it is to think about leaving your baby. I don't quite know why it is, but nights are the worst. Everytime I manage to get him to settle him back to sleep I just want to pick him back up out of his cot, squeeze him tight and never let go. I am worried about an incredible amount of things: His eating, his naptimes, his routine. I am worried that he will like our childminder better than me; worried she'll be better at looking after him than I am. I worry that it makes me a bad Mum for leaving him with someone else. I worry that it was the wrong thing to go back to uni at all and I should have stayed at my job in the bank where I would have been able to choose how many hours a week I left my baby. In the back of my mind  I worry that I won't manage going back to uni at all - that I'll fail and it'll all be for nothing.

I don't worry about the standard of care he'll get. I am so confident he'll be well looked after. And I'm confident he'll love it too. He is such a happy, friendly baby and he just loves being around big and small people. He'll have a great time. I am heartbroken thinking about how much I'll miss him. Completely heartbroken.

But today Isaac went for a trial run at the childminders and I had a few hours to myself. After an hour of housework and pottering around the house thinking how empty and quiet it was I dusted the cobwebs off my textbooks from last year and had a bash at putting the old grey matter into gear. And I remembered how much I love studying, how much I love my course, how long I've waited to be well enough to go back to uni. I want my baby boy to be proud of me when he grows up. To know that I've really grabbed life with both hands and lived it to the full. I want him to learn from my example that you can achieve anything with hard work and determination. I know again that this is the right thing for our family. And today I felt so much better. I feel like I'm on the right path, feel confident in our decisions again. Confident that I can be a good Mum just the way I am, doing what I want to do and not what I feel I should do.

And then tonight, again, I had a nagging doubt that maybe I'm a bad Mum for feeling better about it.

Sometimes I wish I could turn my brain off.